


All or Nothing

by flight_feather



Series: Alternative Andromeda: Lazuli Ryder [2]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Best Friends, Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Character Study, Cults, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gun Violence, Hacking, Hurt/Comfort, Infiltration, London, Medical Experimentation, Moving In Together, Rope Bondage, Sequel, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-01-25 07:03:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 92,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12525728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flight_feather/pseuds/flight_feather
Summary: The sequel toRenegades.Hacker Lazuli Ryder has joined forces with CEO Reyes Vidal at Collective Industries in 2040s London. Over the last six months, they have worked to set up refugee centres and improve the lives of people in the city. But when Ryder discovers that someone is trying to hack information about the refugees and Reyes realizes it could be the human trafficking group known only as the Kett, Ryder decides to go on the offensive.





	1. Sundays (Prologue)

Reyes enjoyed lazy Sundays, but he preferred the kind of Sunday that involved getting shit done on his phone whilst his girlfriend rested her head in his lap and did incomprehensible things with code on her laptop. They didn’t happen often, as said girlfriend was usually out at brunch with her best friend on Sundays, but their plans had fallen through this time. 

Lazuli Ryder, hacker and part-time Director of Cybersecurity at Collective Industries, frowned absently at the dark-themed scrawl of brightly-highlighted monospace text filling her screen. It was gibberish to Reyes, but he’d seen her point to individual lines and explain to people who knew better than he what it would do. Those people had been impressed, increasing his pride in winning her not only for his company, but for himself. 

She was one of those oddly brilliant people who didn’t recognize the unique value of her talent, considering it as simply a thing she did, like counting to ten or breathing. Sometimes it gave Reyes fits, as it had on the one occasion he’d visited her decrepit studio flat, because she could command a salary that would enable her to live in the best parts of London rather than one of the worst, and didn’t. Sometimes it simply left him baffled as to why she didn’t demand the moon, sun, and stars for the gift of her services. 

To be fair, he thought the same of her skills and preferences in bed, so maybe he wasn’t the best judge. All the same, in the four months since he’d brought her on board at Collective, cybersecurity threats at the London headquarters had been slashed by an order of magnitude. More of his shipping containers reached their destinations than ever had, thanks to her encryption and tracking protocols, and her work with artificial intelligence was streamlining his business in ways his third-party software-as-a-service providers hadn’t even imagined. Collective Industries was on the ascent, and he’d never been happier. Business was booming, he had a whip-smart partner at his side, and he was finally getting his life on the track he’d dreamed of for so long.

Reyes finished his call but stayed put, content to watch Ryder’s fingers fly over the keyboard with an almost superhuman speed. He supposed it was muscle memory, the same that let him draw and shoot a concealed gun faster than most people could, but it was fascinating to watch her digits move at such a furious pace. 

At the end of a line, she stopped, closing her eyes and resting one hand on her belly whilst the other curved over her head. The furrowing of her brow as she turned her face into her elbow told him that she was thinking, not sleeping, and he took advantage of her distraction to observe her. 

Ryder was a riot of colours blended with a down-to-earth beauty. Locks of artificially straight blue hair, dark brown at the roots, fell over her face, obscuring a small, indigo mandala tattoo radiating from her right ear. Her eyes, when open, were a piercing, lively turquoise that was incongruous with her tawny brown skin, yet strangely complementary. The black t-shirt she wore - one of his - provided contrast with the bright teal panties she wore.

“I can feel you watching, creeper,” she mumbled. Reyes brushed the hair out of her face tenderly, replying, “If you don’t like it, get off my lap.” 

“No,” she pouted, frowning harder and poking her lower lip out at the idea. 

Slowly, her breathing deepened. One of her up-bent legs extended suddenly, nearly tipping her computer off her lap and startling her awake. 

“Not sleeping,” she insisted, rubbing her eyes. Fortunately, Reyes’ quick reflexes had saved the poor laptop, and he set it on the coffee table alongside his feet. “You’re allowed to take a break, _mi amor_ ,” he reminded her, running fingers through her hair in a way that he knew would send her back to dreamland. It worked, and with a pleased little noise she turned her face into his bare abs and drifted off again. 

He wasn’t surprised; he’d worked her hard last night. A building pile of fuck-ups at the office had brought Anubis to full bear and Ryder, ever-perceptive of his moods, had taunted him into tying her up and releasing his tension in a thoroughly sexual manner.

She was an excellent partner in every sense of the word, and he’d do anything for her. At the moment though, he was contemplating the full lips that were currently so close to his cock, wrapped around it, sucking and - 

An alarm sounded on Ryder’s laptop, and she sat up in an instant, turning to face it even before she could possibly be completely awake. Scrubbing hands over her face quickly, she frowned at the pop-up alert on the screen, then snatched at the computer and went for the dining table. “Motherfucking cockwombles,” she swore under her breath as she sat down and hunched over the keyboard. 

Reyes knew better than to say or do anything. When she was in the zone, she’d either ignore him or snap at him, and whenever she was like this it was usually something important. Something that would likely save him a headache at work, or wanting to slip back into old habits from his days as a hitman.

Instead, he headed to the kitchen and started preparing their Sunday roast. Ryder enjoyed and appreciated nice things, but more as a bonus than an expectation, and good cooking fell into that category. Reyes had worked too hard to climb from impoverished youth to successful criminal to legitimate, multi-millionaire CEO to settle for so much as mediocre, so he took it upon himself to see to the finer details. 

_She should just live here_. It wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed his mind, but he refused to bring it up just yet. It felt too soon somehow, and he’d learned to trust his gut. Aside from that, he was still warring with himself over whether he was ready to take such a step. She practically lived with him as it was, spending more nights than not either here or at the flat in Chiswick, but some days they both needed their space.

The beef had just gone into the oven when a colourful and creative stream of invective from the other room drew him to lean in the archway, drying washed hands on a kitchen towel. Usually, she only swore like that when he had her tied up and begging for his cock during one of their games. Ryder looked utterly furious as she glared at the screen, to an extent that suggested this wasn’t just about work. 

_Ask, or wait?_ Her fingers started flying again. _Wait_. 

He went back to prepare the batter for Yorkshire puddings and chop vegetables, making sure everything was ready and mentally noting the time it would all need to go into the second oven. A whoop of triumph pulled him back to the dining room. “How d’ya like that, fuckers!” Ryder crowed. 

“All set?” Reyes asked, dying to know what she’d been doing. She leapt from her chair and launched into his arms, solidly pressing her lips to his. “Someone was trying to hack into the Initiative’s records on Prodromos,” she explained. That would account for her fury; the refugee centre was her brainchild and one of her pet projects, along with two others. “I stopped them, then traced the hack and shut their servers down.” He knew she was probably simplifying dramatically for his benefit, but he congratulated her on it nonetheless. 

A frown drew her brows together. “Something about it bothers me though. Generally, I mean. This isn’t the first attempt, just the best one, and the information they were going after...it was about the refugees themselves. Not the centre’s finances, or administration, or anything directly damaging to the Initiative. Just demographics and medical records on the refugees.” 

Her mouth twisted as she thought, and Reyes waited patiently with his hands at her waist. After a minute, she shook it off. “In any case, I need a few more minutes to report the attempt. Lexi, Jaal, and Liam need to be aware there may be a threat.” 

He needed a moment to remind himself of her colleagues. Lexi would be Dr Taperro, the head medical coordinator for the Initiative’s refugee efforts. Jaal Ama Darav was the new program coordinator, and Liam Kosta was the crisis response manager. Each of them would probably have a part to play if someone threatened or attacked the centres. 

“Any danger to Collective?” he asked, and she shook her head. “Not yet. They really don’t seem interested in who’s funding or contributing to the centres, only in who’s _staying_ at them.”

A thought occurred to him as he went to check the timer on the roast and get started on the pudding. “Ryder, what if this is the Kett?” She blinked and froze, a look of panic flashing across her face at the possibility. The Kett were a shadowy group, of which not much was known other than that they kidnapped people and trafficked them into slavery, or worse. Ryder had been looking into them when he’d met her, and their first mission together was to snatch a Kett informant and trafficker named Vehn Terev from Sloane to remand him for justice. 

“That is...a frightening possibility,” she admitted slowly. “Refugees...almost nobody would think to look for them, really, and most probably wouldn’t care if they went missing. Or they’d assume they’d moved on. Their legal status is iffy, and public sympathy is low with so many coming in.” She chewed her lip. “They’re the perfect targets for the Kett. The latest attacks have seemed too sophisticated for it to be them, but maybe I underestimated them.”

Reyes nodded, not looking up from the brownies he’d started preparing. Ryder had a soft spot for chocolate and strawberries, and he’d really pushed her hard last night. “My intel reports say that they’re organizing under someone called Archon and that known Kett sympathizers are growing more active. Hard to come by more than that though.” 

He didn’t ask her to look into it, but he knew she would. His information network was among the best in the world, but her ability to break into systems and networks his people couldn’t access made her the perfect, subtly blunt instrument when finesse, funding, and favours wouldn’t work. 

Sure enough, Ryder had her Pathfinder face on, a sharp distance chilling her turquoise gaze to the hardness of stone. “We’ll see about that,” she muttered, going for the computer again. 

“Ryder,” he called softly, halting her. Left to her own devices, the woman would fall into her computer screen and not come up for air - or dinner - for another ten hours, at least. He wasn’t doing all this cooking for shits and giggles.

Her attention went to the bowl of batter before he could tell her to leave the hacking for now if the immediate threat was addressed. 

“Are those brownies?” she asked, expression lightening to pure enthusiasm as she crowded next to him at the counter and extended a finger to the bowl. 

Slapping her hand away, he said, “Yes. Hands to yourself.” 

Her demeanor slid to pure wickedness. “Can I lick the batter off your dick?” 

Reyes blinked, somehow not having anticipated that particular request. “Right now?” It wasn’t that he disagreed with the idea, he was just scrambling to realign his thinking from the possibility of the Kett carrying out a hack on refugee centres to the idea of his girlfriend on her knees in the kitchen, sucking chocolate off his cock. 

The body part in question made its preferences known, swiftly making a bulge in the silvery grey silk of his pyjama bottoms. Ryder arched an eyebrow. “Doesn’t look like that would be a problem,” she quipped, eyeing him appreciatively. Grunting agreement, Reyes poured the mix into pans, turned to hand her the bowl, and slipped the pyjamas down over his hips as she knelt. 

Her eyes followed his erection as it bounced, then she darted forward and stopped its movement by catching the tip between her pursed lips. He hissed involuntarily, half afraid she’d forget to mind her teeth, but he needn’t have worried. Her amused chuckle made a pleasant vibration before she released it, and he leaned back against the counter. 

Scooping her hand along the inside of the bowl, she gathered a generous amount of batter and smoothed it gently along his shaft. The sugar in the mix made it slightly gritty, and he was grateful that she avoided the sensitive head even as he was intrigued by how close to the base she spread the stuff. _Setting herself up for a challenge_. 

A challenge she sought to address as soon as the bowl was set aside, taking him deeply into her mouth. Reyes groaned and tipped his head back, gripping the counter and letting her work. When she shifted to caress his balls with her tongue, he glanced down. 

“Missed a spot,” he pointed out hoarsely. She rewarded him with a graze of teeth and a raised eyebrow. He got the point and shut up. 

Her lips enveloped his cock again, sliding smoothly to the base. _Fuck, right there, stay there_ , Reyes thought, unable to help himself from fisting a hand in her hair and holding her so that her nose brushed the trimmed hair at his belly. Her throat worked and her nails dug into this thighs, but she didn’t give the non-verbal signal - three quick taps - that she’d had enough. 

When she tensed, he let go. Ryder rocked back to gasp for air before plunging straight back. At this point he didn’t care if all the brownie batter was gone; he was ready to come. Blood rushed to the head of his cock until it throbbed painfully, and she focused her attention there, lips sliding over the rounded edge of its head until he groaned. When the first spurt escaped him, she pushed to take him all in again, letting him empty himself straight down her throat. 

The little kiss she planted on the tip when he was done made him smile, as did the gentleness with which she rolled his pyjamas back up. “Best brownies ever,” she breathed against his chest when she’d stood. 

Reyes wrapped his arms around her and buried his nose in her neck, where she smelled like the amber and orange flower scent she wore, and underneath it, the musky-sweet smell of herself and their shared bed. Ten years ago, even five, he hadn’t imagined contentment like this: a warm kitchen, with good food cooking and a good woman in his arms, one who accepted every part of him wholeheartedly.

Now? He wasn’t sure what he’d do without her and prayed he’d never have to find out.


	2. Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder decides to tackle the Kett threat to her refugee centres, and Reyes talks her into taking on more responsibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little housekeeping: unlike Renegades, but similar to Whiskey and Secrets, this will not be alternating POV by chapter but rather mid-chapter when it serves the story. 
> 
> *** = later in the same POV  
> ### = POV change

Some days, Ryder wondered why she didn’t quit the Andromeda Initiative altogether. Today was definitely one of those days. 

Unlike her work at Collective, where Reyes fulfilled his promise to let her be her own boss and carry out the actions she deemed necessary to benefit the company, at the Initiative Tann and a host of others who either ignorantly meant well or blatantly acted politically blocked her actions and questioned her capabilities. In the wake of the attempted hack by the group she was increasingly certain was the Kett, she didn’t have the patience for it. 

Slamming her hand on the table in frustration, she snapped, “Trust me, the refugee centres are a target!” Her passionate words echoed in the large meeting room, and Liam winced. 

Tann, his expression smug and voice coolly superior, replied, “And yet you cannot prove how you know that.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Or refuse to.” 

It was definitely the latter; whilst her skills were highly valued at Collective, they were still dangerously close to the line of legality at the Initiative, if not past it. Gritting her teeth, Ryder spat, “The server logs showed unusual activity suggestive of an attempted hack. Someone is trying to get information about the refugees. Not the Initiative or its employees, but the refugees themselves.”

Nobody answered her, looking at her with expressions ranging from boredom to disbelief to annoyance, and Ryder slumped, wanting Reyes. _He_ believed her. To be fair, he’d seen her leap off the couch yesterday, waited with infinite patience cooking brownies, of all things, whilst she repulsed the attack and kept the refugees - _her people_ , her responsibility - safe. More than that, he believed her, unquestioningly.

A paranoid former hitman, with trust and commitment issues so deeply ingrained that he sometimes lost himself to the secondary personality he’d developed to protect himself, had more faith in her than this entire room full of jackasses. Ryder wasn’t sure if that said more about Reyes or less about the Initiative. Probably both. 

Liam approached her when the meeting was over. “For what it’s worth, I believe you, Lazuli,” he said, apology painted across his honest face. “It’s just -” 

“I get it.” Ryder cut him off and kept walking. “You have your job by the grace of Director Tann, and you still have to prove yourself.”

The crisis response manager scowled. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Sighing, Ryder stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just...been a long six months,” she offered. Her perpetual conflict with Tann wasn’t Liam’s fault, and whilst she didn’t like his hot-headedness, she appreciated that he’d joined the Initiative to help with her refugee centres. His heart was in the right place, he was just naive. More than even Ryder had been before meeting Reyes. He hadn’t seen how much the monsters under the bed encroached on the real world, the world their loved ones lived and breathed in. 

With a nod of reluctant acceptance, Liam continued down the corridor to where his buddy Jaal waited for him. Ryder turned and headed back to her solitary office, feeling her isolation more than ever. 

***

“I'm going after Archon,” she told Reyes later. “The Initiative either don’t believe me or don’t want the burden of acting. There was another attempt this afternoon, and this time I tracked it to a server I know is Kett.”

“Hmmm.” Reyes’ thoughtful noise was accompanied by an absent-minded stroking of his thumb on her shoulder. They were cuddled on the big leather couch in his Regent’s Park flat, the remains of yesterday’s leftover roast on the plates in front of them and glasses of neat whiskey at hand. Ryder knew him well enough to know that he was stalling for time. 

“Spit it out,” she demanded, still cranky from the earlier meeting and not in the mood for any prevaricating. He glanced down at her, reading her mood with golden eyes that gave away nothing, and then spoke. “I thought you might. It could be good for you to have a team of your own. Tann keeps you isolated at Initiative but it’s neither healthy nor safe, especially if you're hunting the Kett.”

Ryder frowned. A team? She had no use for a team and told him so. 

“You would if you had to go into the field,” he said, caution in every line of his suddenly tense frame. That caught her attention. “What do you mean,” she asked flatly. “I can track them down and take them out remotely. Like we did with the ROKAR murders.”

Shrugging, Reyes said, “Even so, Collective Industries has offices outside London. Your refugee centres are all outside London. Are you never going to visit off-site locations for security checks?”

Her frown deepened; Ryder honestly hadn’t thought about it. Reyes continued laying out his thoughts, and she strongly suspected his casual tone was forced. “It’s also unwise to have all the institutional knowledge of a department - in your case, cybersecurity - stored in a single person with no redundancy. I’d appreciate if you took on some more people. Support staff. A few mini-Pathfinders.”

Ryder snickered in complete disbelief. “Minions. You want me to have minions?” 

“And a procurement manager. A researcher. Maybe some muscle,” Reyes added. Ryder felt her mouth drop open. “You’re serious.” He nodded. “You want cybersecurity to be a full department, not just a title held by your girlfriend.” He nodded again, gaze sharp as he tried to read her. She leaned back, away from the arm draped across her shoulders. She'd known he had faith in her abilities, but this was too much. Lead a department? Her? She just wanted to track down bad guys and hack their systems, stop them hurting people from the safety of her desk.

“I need to think,” she said, rising and heading for the door. He knew better than to stop her, only saying, “Okay,” as she walked out.

###

Reyes sighed as the door slammed behind Ryder, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a long draught of whiskey. It was more or less the response he'd expected. Hers was a fiercely independent spirit. Taking on the refugee centres was something she could do from a distance, without actually having to rely on anyone. Suggesting that she manage a team had possibly been too much of a stretch.

Of course, his request had had several motivations behind it, institutional knowledge only being one part. 

Staying abreast of rapid developments was another. With Ryder's attention split between the Initiative and Collective, and now with the refugee centres in the mix as well, logically the day would come when she was spread too thin. It would be bad for Collective, but also for her, in the long-run. 

Then there was the nagging feeling that she was capable of more than she currently took on. Yes, she was a brilliant hacker, but with the exception of that imbecile Tann, people couldn't help but like her, look up to her. He had a feeling she'd blossom in a leadership role given the opportunity, but it was up to her to decide whether she wanted it. He wouldn't push or try to lead her where he wanted, having learned the hard way that any attempts to manipulate her would backfire.

Last and certainly not least, he was worried about her. If anyone aside from Keema, Kian, Crux, or Aquila ever found out who Pathfinder was in the real world, Ryder would have set herself up as a target. He'd kill to protect her without a second thought, but he couldn't always be with her, nor did he want to clip her wings and keep her caged.

So. A team of Pathfinders, plus support staff.

Besides, he'd promised to be honest about “big stuff.” His thoughts on a new department with her at its head seemed to qualify.

Reyes was cleaning, smooth jazz playing in the background, when the door slammed again. He switched off the hoover, surprised that she was back so soon.

“ _Pajarillo_ ,” he greeted her when she stomped into the living room. She was certainly living up to the nickname tonight, a little bird flying off and returning in the same evening.

“I have final say on the team. They answer only to me,” she demanded. He nodded, having expected that. “SAM stays mine. The team gets a reduced version.” Reyes pondered that before agreeing, sensing that she wouldn't budge. The AI was her other pet project, which meant he had no right to make demands where it was concerned, as much as he wanted it.

Her last stipulation was the only one he really objected to. “I can use them on business related to the refugee centres, regardless of the project value to Collective.”

Reyes couldn't help the twitch in his cheek. “No more than five percent of the time,” he countered. 

They went back and forth, settling on twenty percent. Even that was more than he was happy with, but she wasn't entirely pleased either from her grimace. They would both have to live with it.

“What do you have planned then?” she prodded, still standing with her arms crossed. He eyed her sideways as he put the hoover away. She was in Pathfinder mode, determined to get to the bottom of everything that might be behind his request, but perhaps not in the best frame of mind to work with him on it. 

Crossing the room, he sat on the couch. “Come here,” he coaxed, careful to pitch his voice as a request, rather than a command. Given her mood, a command would simply make her contrary, and she’d probably walk out again. If she was feeling recalcitrant she’d obey but stand directly in front of him; otherwise, she’d settle on the sofa with him and he could figure out what was at the root of her reluctance before working on a plan. 

She stayed where she was until he opened his arms, then stalked to the couch and threw herself on it, pillowing her head ungently on his lap and pulling the heavy throw draped across the cushions over her head. _Fear_ , Reyes mused silently, kneading her temple in a gentle massage through the blanket. 

He let her hide for a minute before murmuring, “Talk to me, _pajarillo_.” When she didn’t reply, he peeled a layer back, only for her to hide her face in his crotch. The heat of her breath on his cock made him shift, partly in discomfort and partly in arousal. He dropped the blanket back, and she returned to her previous position. 

It would be a waiting game, then. He’d learned patience the hard way, and reminded himself that her twenty-two years were much younger and more naive than his had been. Eight years ago, he’d had kills and a solid client list to his name, established as a capable contract killer. Reyes was fairly sure Ryder hadn’t been in so much as a bar fight, preferring to destroy her enemies from her keyboard. He respected that; she was the most capable hacker he’d ever encountered. At the same time, he supposed that didn’t necessarily lend itself to confidence in leading a field team.

“It’s just that nobody _listens_ to me. Like today! I _tried_ to tell the Initiative that the centres are in danger, and…” The sudden outburst trailed off into a frustrated growl, and Reyes slowly pulled the blanket back again. She didn’t hide this time, only glared at some point in the distance with tears standing in her eyes. 

_Damn Tann for this_. Usually, she didn’t let the slimy director of the Initiative get to her but today must have been worse than she’d made it out to be. “Ryder.” He waited until she’d shifted slightly to meet his eyes before continuing. “I wouldn’t propose this if I didn’t have every confidence in you. If it makes you unhappy we’ll find another way, but I know you can do this.” 

He gave her a half-smile when she frowned consideringly. “I promised to tell you the truth about the big stuff, so that’s it.” 

She huffed. “I just...I don’t want to let anyone down,” she admitted in a small voice. 

“Of course not. But what if this is the best way to keep the refugees safe? You call the shots and have more hands to help you. None of trying to convince Tann or anyone else at the Initiative about the Kett.”

Chewing her lip, Ryder considered that. “What does Collective get out of it?” she asked after a minute, knowing that he wouldn’t make a proposal that didn’t benefit him in some way. 

Reyes smiled lopsidedly. “Stability in London is good for business. Plus an entire crew of Pathfinders, trained by the best, and the reassurance that there are people watching your back when I can’t.”

“I can take care of myself!” she protested, sounding offended. She wasn’t helpless, Reyes would give her that. She’d followed him to the warehouse where he ended Sloane and Zia, and then hacked her way into his office. But the Kett...the Kett weren’t in love with her, and nobody really knew why they were kidnapping people. He didn’t want to imagine what they’d do if they caught her. He had nightmares enough from his past without adding new ones.

Ryder wouldn’t want to hear his maudlin thoughts, though, so he pushed them aside. “Is that so?” he asked slyly. She tensed, anticipating that he was about to do something, but couldn’t escape before he started tickling her. 

“Reyes!” she shrieked, gasping and writhing. “You - eee! You bloody bastard, I’ll -” Helpless laughter cut off her threat as she made it to her knees and tried to squirm away backward. He left off, smirking as she knelt on the opposite end of the couch trying to catch her breath. “Fine! You win.”

Extending a hand, he caught one of hers and pulled her to him, shifting so that he was reclining against the arm of the sofa with her atop him. There was one more piece to his plan, but he’d wait until she’d gotten accustomed to the idea of leading a team first. For now, he stroked a hand along her spine, content that she’d agreed and hadn’t stayed gone when she’d walked out earlier. 

“ _Sabes que te amo, sí?_ ” he murmured. Reyes knew he probably didn’t tell her often enough, but it was hard enough for him to admit in Spanish after a disagreement. 

Her head butted the underside of his chin when she nodded. “I love you, too,” she returned softly. He relaxed, letting the jazz in the background and the weight and warmth of Ryder atop him soothe the fears that reared up when he thought of her going after the Kett. He wouldn’t try to stop her, and he’d be the first to admit that if anyone could find out where they were and what they were doing it was Ryder. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do everything he could to keep her safe. 

###

Having agreed to Reyes’ plan to build a team, Ryder didn’t waste time getting to it. The first two people she recruited were people she’d known in slightly less-than-legal capacities previously, who likely wouldn’t have a problem with the kind of work they’d probably be doing. 

Drack Nakmor agreed immediately, with a deep _heh heh heh_ at her nervousness as she stood in his doorway down the hall from hers and offered him some easy work as her muscle. He might be a grandfather, but he was still built like a brick shithouse and had played backup for Ryder on her first meeting with Reyes months ago. The old man also knew Reyes in some capacity, one neither of them seemed keen to elaborate on, but apparently it wouldn’t prevent their working together.

Vetra Nyx turned up at Collective’s offices within an hour of Ryder’s call, long dark ponytail swinging and catlike green eyes wary. “Ryder, thanks for the call,” she said in English faintly accented with Northern European inflections as Ryder escorted her to the executive floor. “What’s the job?” 

“What do you know about the Kett?” Ryder asked.

Scowling, Vetra said, “That they’re dangerous and should have been rooted out ages ago.” The taller woman glanced down at Ryder. “You’re going after them?” 

Nodding, Ryder entered her PIN and swiped her badge, holding the door for Vetra before leading her to the end of the room and Reyes’ office. “I need a procurement manager, of sorts. Someone who can also help me put pieces of the puzzle together and manage a team but mostly, acquire things as needed.” 

“Who’s the backer?” Vetra inquired without hesitation. Ryder knocked on Reyes’ door, waiting until he buzzed them in before entering. 

Vetra froze when she saw Reyes behind the desk, a flush colouring her pale skin. “Vidal,” she greeted him cautiously. 

“Nyx,” he returned, glancing at Ryder with one eyebrow arched. 

Ryder frowned, confused. “Am I missing something?” 

“I just...didn’t realize you were running with the heavy hitters these days, Ryder,” Vetra replied slowly. 

Reyes stood, his face and eyes making the subtle, flat shift that suggested Anubis was hovering just beneath the surface as he came around to lean against the front of the desk. “Vetra has helped me with a few shipping matters in the past,” he offered, crossing his arms. That he was being so vague suggested those matters were probably illegal, and Ryder arched an eyebrow of her own, but he didn't elaborate. 

Shifting nervously, Vetra swallowed. “I didn’t know, about Zia.”

“No way you could have,” Reyes said lightly. “I don’t blame you for it.”

Vetra sighed and slumped. “Thanks. I...wasn’t sure.” 

“Which is why you never collected the other half of your payment?” At Vetra’s cautious nod, Reyes went back around his desk and unlocked the lowest drawer, fishing a small stack of notes out. Tossing it to her across the desk, he said, “I always pay fairly, you know that.” 

“I also know that sometimes, people go missing,” Vetra said bluntly, glancing at Ryder as she took the cash and tucked it into her purse. Reyes - no, he’d shifted over to Anubis completely now, judging by his eyes - shrugged and replied with equal bluntness, “But you won’t.”

Ryder watched all of this with bemusement, wondering what Vetra had been involved in that would make Reyes so wary. Zia had been the name of the red-haired woman he’d killed in the warehouse six months ago if she recalled correctly, and it seemed Vetra had been mixed up in some business with the three of them. Not only that, but that Vetra had an idea Zia was dead, and that Reyes was somehow responsible. 

_Maybe he’s right_ , she conceded to herself while the two of them continued to stare at each other. _Maybe a team isn’t such a bad idea because I’m already in over my head and we haven't even left the office yet_. 

Clearing her throat, Ryder said, “I’ve asked Vetra if she’ll be my procurement manager and help with managing the team.” Anubis’ cold, golden gaze flicked to her, then back to Vetra. He smiled, the faint lift of his lips not reaching his eyes. “A good choice. Welcome to Collective Industries, Nyx.” 

Vetra nodded sharply, and Ryder turned to escort her back downstairs. “Ryder,” Anubis called from behind her, and she turned. “Come back up when you've finished with her paperwork. I've got a researcher to suggest.” Nodding, Ryder left and shut the door behind her, wondering exactly how much she didn't know about her boyfriend.

***

Reyes was back to himself when Ryder made it back up to his office. “Sure you're alright with Vetra and Drack?” she asked. He shrugged. “Vetra caught me by surprise, is all. I didn't know you two knew each other.” 

“She's the one who gave me courier work when Tann suspended me a few months ago. Always seems to be good in a pinch.”

Reyes nodded, turning his chair to look out the picture window at the city. “That she is.”

Curious but not wanting to be nosy, Ryder bit her tongue. She'd promised to let him keep his secrets if he promised to be honest about the big stuff. He let her in sometimes, but not always. It was just who he was, or who he'd become over the years, she wasn’t sure which. She could accept it, or not, but she couldn't change him. Only he could decide how much of himself he was willing to share.

For now, it was enough.

Usually, she kept a firm professional distance from him at the office, but today she broke her own rule, just this once. Stepping around to his side of the desk, she eased down into his lap and pulled his arms around her. He stiffened, knowing her preferences and always respectful of them, before tightening his embrace and tucking his head over her shoulder to kiss her cheek. He was much more physical in his expression of love, and if he'd been thrown off by Vetra it wouldn't hurt to reassure him that she was still okay with his keeping some secrets.

They didn't speak, simply looked out over the city together as the lengthening shadows heralded evening. This late in the year it would be dark before they finished for the day, and taking five or ten minutes to sit in his lap and watch the sun set from his twentieth-storey office seemed the height of romantic indulgence.

“Thank you,” Reyes murmured, kissing her cheek again. 

“For what?”

“For accepting me.”

The words echoed their conversation the day they'd come to the agreement about secrets, and Ryder knew then that he'd been worried she'd pry into matters he didn't want to discuss.

She squeezed his arm, then gently pulled free. He released her immediately, and she moved to sit in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Tell me about this researcher.”

***

Pelessaria Besayle - or Peebee, as the eccentric young woman preferred to be called - was _not_ what Ryder had been expecting. 

Reyes took her to the sublevels of the building, where his labs were. While shipping was the cash cow of the organization, Collective Industries’ foray into smart weapons development was the rising star in an increasingly unstable world. Though curious, Ryder had never been down to the research labs, knowing the work skirted the line of legality and comfortable with letting Reyes introduce her to more of his business at his own pace.

Peebee was one of his tech researchers, currently assigned to the small weapons department but having expressed an interest in more experimental work. She looked to be about Ryder’s age, with a streak of dark purple dyed into her slicked-back, light brown bob. Ryder wasn’t sure if she’d forgotten to wear a shirt under the wrap bolero in matching purple, or simply didn’t care. Either was likely, given her air of absent-minded brilliance.

“I want to build bots,” she chirped when Ryder asked what she’d prefer to do. “Push the boundaries of tech. Weapons are kind of boring. They go bang, people die. But bots?” The small woman's hazel eyes lit up. “They can do _so many things_.”

She bounced off mid-conversation to make a note on a tablet, and Ryder turned to look at Reyes. He was leaning against a workbench off to the side, arms crossed and looking delicious, and he smirked at whatever he saw on her face. “I thought her hardware skills might complement your AI work,” he explained. 

Peebee’s head snapped up. “You work with AI?”

“Yes…I’ve developed one. Am developing one.” Ryder jumped half out of her skin when Peebee grabbed her shoulders, exclaiming, “Oh goddess, that’s _perfect_! See, I’m working on this bot called Poc and I have the construct most of the way there but I need a way to bring it to _life_ and -” 

Ryder extricated herself and interrupted before the flow of words could overwhelm her. “Okay! Okay, Peebee, we’ll...see what we can come up with.”

The excitable woman bounded back to her workstation, typing something into her notes, and Reyes signalled Ryder to follow him back up to the main floor. 

“She usually keeps to herself more. Brilliant with any kind of physical tech or hardware but bored by weapons, and too good at what she does to lose to a competitor,” he explained in the lift. “She’ll settle if you let her play with her bots.” 

Chewing her lip in thought, Ryder asked, “You think we’ll need physical tech?”

He shrugged. “I think if anyone can help you develop wetware to improve your link with SAM, Peebee would be the one. I also don’t think it would hurt for you to have drone or bot support of some sort for collecting intel. Better to stay at a distance where the Kett are concerned.”

Both ideas intrigued Ryder. “I’ll take her.” 

“Good. I’ll approve the transfer to your department in the morning.”

The little smirk he wore seemed excessive for what they’d just agreed. “What else have you got planned, _señor_?” she demanded. 

“Have you thought about how you’re going to get an entire team of people off-site if you need to investigate something in person? Or all the gear, for that matter?” he asked, a playful light in his golden eyes. Ryder blinked. She hadn’t, and his high spirits suggested he both had the answer and was going to spend a lot of money on it. For all his flaws, the man was generous to a fault when it came to the people he cared about, especially her. 

Of course, he refused to tell her what it was just yet. He always loved having a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really appreciated the comments on the first chapter! Thank you <3  
> More smut (and Anubis) is coming up in the next chapter.


	3. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder receives gifts from Reyes, both material and informational, and takes another step into his world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut, guns, dark!Reyes / Anubis.
> 
> Massive thank you to everyone reading along, doubly to those who commented with your thoughts and encouragement.

That Reyes’ surprise was a vehicle, she’d guessed. Getting any combination of Drack, Vetra, and Peebee on her motorcycle would be an act qualifying them for the circus. He had also asked what category of driving license she had, looking relieved when she said she had both the category A for motorcycles and category B for cars. 

Knowing that the surprise was going to be something larger than her Tempest and actually seeing his proposed choice was another thing entirely. 

Ryder’s jaw dropped when they got to the shipping yard and he opened the container. “What _is_ it?” she breathed admiringly, immediately darting into the container to get a better look. 

“A Nomad,” he replied with a boyish grin, hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his feet in a rare show of nerves. “Prototype. It has some interesting tech that I want to have my people reverse-engineer, but once they’ve had a look at it, it’s yours. If you like it, anyway.” 

The sleek SUV was roughly the size of his Land Rover, but built along much sportier lines. A matte black paint job drank in the light without reflection and a black leather interior was barely visible through tinted windows. Solar panels were worked into the roof, and she noted both electric and petrol fueling ports. Heavy all-terrain tyres completed the appearance of being able to take on anything. 

“It’s like a mini tank!” she exclaimed, peering in the windows before climbing up on the footrail. From her perch, she gripped the top rack and tried to rock it. The Nomad gave the slightest wobble, largely unaffected by her enthusiastic efforts. Hopping down, she rushed back to Reyes. “Can I drive it?” 

“It has to get back to the office somehow,” he purred, his pleased smirk giving him a cocky look. Ryder bounced on her toes and clapped her hands, darting in for a kiss before racing to the driver’s side door. 

Fingers on the handle, she hesitated. “If it’s a prototype, can it be traced back to you?” Reyes shook his head as he stepped to the other door. “Not likely. I arranged it through so many contacts and shell corporations that it would take another you to figure it out.” 

Reassured, Ryder opened it up and hopped in. It smelled like new car and new tech, and she _oooh_ ed at all the lights and indicators as Reyes slid into the passenger seat beside her and reached across to press the ignition button. _Focus, Ryder, don’t trash the new toy before you get to play with it_. Settling, she adjusted the seat and mirrors, tested all the signals and other buttons, and buckled the seatbelt before gingerly easing the vehicle out of its metal container. 

It had been left in a largely-empty yard, and with a whoop of excitement, she hit the gas and wrenched the wheel.

Reyes shouted in surprise. “ _Donuts_ , Ryder?” She laughed, and he snarled, “ _Hijo de puta, esta mujer me va a matar_ ,” holding on to the centre console and the door grip like his life depended on it. After five neat circles, Ryder pulled out and headed for the gate. 

“ _Estás loca_ ,” he muttered with a glare when she smiled winningly at him. “I love you, toooo,” she sang, easing out into traffic. 

***

The Nomad wasn’t the only thing Reyes had up his sleeve. “Training?” Ryder asked, confused. “In what?” 

They were on their way down to the labs again, alone in the lift once it passed below the main floor. Reyes glanced down at her sideways, as she’d noticed he did when trying to be subtle about gauging someone’s mood. _This should be interesting_ , she thought, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms. 

“Leading a team in the field. Weapons. Figuring out how you all work together _before_ you’re thrown into an emergency situation.” 

Ryder stared at him. From the flat blankness of his expression he was dead serious, and he didn’t look at her as he continued in a low voice. “If you’re going to hunt the Kett, I’ll support you in that. But don’t ask me to let you walk into it like you did my office. If I was anyone else, or simply not in love with you, you’d be dead. I saw the moment you realized that you’d forgotten to plan a way out. Failsafes keyed to SAM might make them hesitate or ruin them later, but that doesn’t help you if your throat is cut.”

Scowling, Ryder looked down, scuffing a foot on the floor and rubbing her neck. _He paints a vivid picture...and he’s not wrong_. As much as she might want to conduct her war against the Kett entirely from her keyboard, she had to admit that she’d be shit outta luck if she had to leave it. The Kett could be based anywhere, and Reyes’ private security team might be too blunt an instrument if their enemy was as subtle as they appeared to be from the sophistication of that last hack. _Or if we’re doing this extra-governmentally. Shit._

“So I’m gonna be a hacker-infiltrator-saboteur, then?” she mused, pursing her lips. Reyes glanced sideways again before replying. “Maybe not necessarily that far. Not right now, anyway. But if you’re going to be in this world…”

She finished the thought for him. “I need to go into it with some idea of what I’m doing. Fair enough.” Reyes shrugged, and she sighed in resignation, wanting to hug him but holding back as the lift slowed. It announced their arrival to yet another floor she hadn’t seen with a short chime, doors sliding open to reveal what she could only describe as an armory. 

Reyes strode ahead, hands in his pockets and head down. He paused to look back when he realized she was still standing in the lift, staring at the neat, illuminated rows of guns, knives, and grenades with wide eyes and dropped jaw. The doors started to close, and he stepped back to block them with a hand. “You knew we researched and built weapons here,” he said, watching her. “This is the testing range.”

Taking a deep breath, Ryder shook herself and stepped out. “Knowing a thing abstractly is one thing. Seeing your -” She bit her tongue before she could call him her boyfriend, unsure if anyone else was on this level. “Your _company’s_ private testing range is another thing entirely.” She looked around, not having been this close to anything deadlier than a knife since the last time her father had brought his gear home. Stepping out of the lift, she followed him into the room.

“You could have gone to war with Sloane,” she murmured, spinning slowly to take it all in. Reyes tipped his head side to side, the movement reminding her of when she’d accused him of being a smuggler on their first meeting. “Maybe, if I’d reneged on some contracts with a few governments.” 

Her turn brought her face-to-face with him, his expression still impassive. “And yet you chose a different option.” 

He inclined his head. “Two people shooting each other is better than a lot of people shooting each other.” 

Ryder snorted. “I guess so.” She started walking along the rows, trying to find something familiar. A compact pistol caught her eye. “My dad had something like this. He had me shoot it, once.”

Reyes joined her, eyebrows lifted. “Was he military?” 

“SAS. Why?” she replied, frowning. How would he have guessed that?

He picked up the handgun and turned it over in his hands. “This is an Eagle, our modification of the M-5 Phalanx used by the elite forces of several militaries.” Eyeing her, he added, “Probably a good one for you, actually. Reliable stopping power and accuracy with minimal recoil. I can modify the barrel so you’ve nearly got a pocket shotgun. Shall we?” 

Leading her to the back of the space, he stopped to pick up a large box of ammo and a pair of safety glasses and then stepped into a shooting lane. A man-shaped dummy stood at the end, weak points painted on it in red. “How much do you know already?” Reyes asked as she stepped up to the line and put the glasses on. 

“Erm...don’t take it out unless you mean to fire it?” He nodded, gesturing for her to go on as he disassembled the pistol and laid out the pieces. “Don’t point it at someone unless you mean to kill them. Keep the safety on until you’re ready to shoot. Squeeze the trigger slowly, don’t pull it. Don’t grip the sides of the slide unless you want to slice your hand.” 

She frowned, trying to pull her father’s voice from the depths of her memory. She hadn’t really wanted to learn how to shoot, having been decidedly more interested in computers even in her early teens, but Alec Ryder insisted on every member of the family knowing the basics of gun safety with so much of his gear in the home when he was on leave. “Ignorance leads to unfortunate accidents,” he’d said, and wouldn’t hear any arguments otherwise. 

“A good start,” Reyes said, stepping behind her. Ryder jumped and glanced furtively behind them when his arms came around her. “Don’t worry. It’s just us, and I’ve locked down the floor.” She relaxed at the reassurance, a little aroused by the press of his body against hers and his smooth voice in her ear now that she didn't have to worry about being seen with him. “Pay attention,” he demanded, and she looked down to where he was picking up the gun’s frame.

Over the next forty-five minutes, he demonstrated all the pieces of the weapon, taking it apart, putting it together, loading it, unloading it, holding it, putting it down safely. When he was satisfied that she could do all of that correctly, he had her try two different stances, impersonally nudging her feet, turning her torso, or lifting her arms until she had it right.

Then it was firing with live ammo. She hadn’t expected that, but he wanted her to get used to the sound and feel of real ammunition from the start. Her shots went wide at first, but not terribly. Reload, fire again. The second round was closer, grazing the dummy. Another reload, the underutilized muscles in her triceps and shoulders starting to ache. 

“Steady,” Reyes said from behind her when she hit the target in the midriff and bounced on her toes. He was far enough away that he wouldn’t be hit by flying casings but close enough for her to hear him over the shots. She listened to him, anchoring herself, and hit the target with every one of her last three bullets. 

“Again,” he ordered, and Ryder obeyed with a wince, reloading, squaring up, and firing despite the burn in her muscles. This time, all of the bullets found the target, one of them in the heart. 

With the gun empty, she flicked the safety on and popped the magazine out before setting it down and turning to him with a smile. It may not be something she necessarily wanted to learn or be good at, but she took pride in learning quickly. 

“Well done, _pajarillo_ ,” he complimented her, stepping forward to kiss her on the forehead. “You’ll be on the simulation course in no time.” 

She looked up at him, seeing more Anubis than Reyes, and shivered. “Show me how it’s really done?” He cocked his head to the side and regarded her, and she realized she was asking to be let into a part of his life that up until now she’d only seen when he hadn’t intended it. “If you want,” she added quietly, not wanting to force it. 

Tipping her chin up with a finger, he kissed her and then stepped to the firing line. Pushing a button made the targets move forward and back; another push made them move unpredictably. Without pausing, he smoothly reloaded the weapon, switched off the safety, aimed, and fired. The top of the dummy’s head exploded as three shots rapidly sank into the forehead and each eye. The chest opened as three shots found the heart. Pivoting, he did the same for each of the dummies on either side of her target before tucking the safetied pistol at his back as he turned to her.

Ryder wasn't sure whether fear, awe, or arousal were topmost as Anubis’ hard golden gaze fell on her. The end result was the same: staring stupidly at him, jaw slightly agape. Anyone could point and shoot, as he'd done with Sloane. But this…this was frightening.

“That is always in me,” he said flatly, taking in her expression. “It’s as easy as breathing, and sometimes, far more satisfying.” He took another slow step closer, pinning Ryder to the spot with his eyes. “I would never hurt you.” Another step. “But if you want to leave…” The last step brought him close enough to kiss, a scant few centimetres between them. “Go now.”

Shaking slightly with adrenaline, Ryder held her ground. “I won't run from you, Anubis,” she breathed against his lips. She rarely acknowledged his alter-ego by name but sensed it was needed now to convey her acceptance. “Not for this. Not for honesty.”

Carefully, she slid her hands from his abs, tight with tension, up his chest. Just as cautiously, he lowered his lips to hers, the muscles of his shoulders still tense under her fingers. “Let go,” she whispered, massaging. “It's okay. I trust you. I'm not leaving. I asked, and you showed me.” 

His arms came around her, tight enough to squeeze the air from her lungs. Her mouth opened at the bidding of his tongue, and she felt her back hit the wall of the lane before she'd realized they were moving. A fire sparked in her and she was debating the wisdom of blowing him when he broke away, cupping her jaw in one hand and running a thumb along her bottom lip as though he'd read her mind.

“We'll finish this later,” he promised, looking more like Reyes than he had a few minutes ago. Ryder nodded, rocking onto her toes to give him a last kiss. 

They headed back upstairs, Reyes sharing his plans to get her team weapons licenses and take them all out to a simulation range for practice. It sounded like paintball to Ryder and she agreed, wondering how deep this rabbit hole would go and how far she was willing to explore it to protect her refugee centres.

###

Of all the days Reyes had been afraid of losing Ryder, today ranked just behind the one when she'd seen him shoot Sloane, the day he actually had lost her. She'd been so innocent in her request for him to show her how the shooting exercise could be done, realizing too late the extent of what she’d asked.

For him to let her in a little more. Share a secret. Reveal the part of himself that he worked to keep leashed every single day.

Months ago he'd promised not to lie about big stuff, but he could have shown her a bit less than he had. It had crossed his mind...and had felt like an attempt to hide something. To lie. He would keep his promise to her even if it damned him.

He'd half expected the last kiss he'd given her before facing the targets to be the last they'd have. It hadn't mattered while he was in the zone, sinking into the easy flow of aim, breathe, shoot. Only when he'd emptied the magazine and turned to her, seen the strange combination of surprise, fear, and lust in her open-mouthed stare, did it come crashing back. 

He'd approached her slowly, explicitly giving her the chance to fly away again, feeling like a cobra closing in on a bird. She'd held her ground, seemingly hypnotized, only to shudder free of the fear when he got close. Called him Anubis, and accepted him once again. He'd wanted to fuck her then and there out of pure relief, but pulled himself back. Sex couldn't always be the answer, especially not when she'd expressed wanting boundaries at the office now that they worked together. She was doing enough to meet him halfway.

When they got back to his flat later she acted as though nothing had happened, chattering in her magpie way about her latest efforts against the Kett and everything else that crossed her mind. Reyes watched her animated recounting, swirling a tumbler of whiskey, seduced by the normalcy of having dinner with the person he loved, listening to her talk about the rest of her day, sharing a cozy evening as a November storm blew outside.

Their sex that evening would be more accurately called “making love” than their usual rough fucking. He tortured her with gentleness, simply to make the point that he _could_ be gentle, until she begged him to take her. When he did, he kept his movements long and slow. She continued her pleading, not coming to orgasm as quickly as usual, but when she did it rolled over her in a seemingly endless wave until she was trembling and gasping beneath him. Only then did he allow himself to finish.

She clung to him afterward, her grip not loosening until her breathing became heavy with sleep. He lay awake much of the night, the same thought chasing itself round and round in his head. 

_I'm not a good man. But I can be good to her._

Not only could he be could be good to her, but he could protect her, provide the training and resources she needed to carry out this crusade against the Kett and the ones that would come after. It might not be being someone in the way he'd imagined, but that ship had probably sailed when he'd chosen the path of a hitman and condemned himself to hiding the depths of his past to avoid arrest. 

Reyes wasn't looking for redemption, nor would he ever burden Ryder with the weight of such a search. What he craved was recognition. She gave him that, saw where he was trying and where he struggled, yet still accepted all of him. Still gave him all of herself.

Unconsciously, he squeezed her tight, loosening his embrace when she made a mumbled noise of protest. 

“Okay, love?” she asked in the thick tones that suggested she was still mostly unconscious, her breath tickling across his chest. She rarely called him “love” unless she was drunk or half-asleep, some inner reserve preventing her from saying the word otherwise, and he smiled. He understood.

“Shhh. Go back to sleep,” he whispered, rubbing a hand along her spine and listening to her breathing deepen again. 

He hoped the training would help because a sinking feeling in his stomach told him something was going to happen. He didn't know when, or what, only that something would, an instinct he'd learned to trust over the years.

 _You won't take her from me_ , he swore to whatever powers were listening.

***

Over the next few weeks Reyes did what he could to prepare Ryder for whatever she might encounter should she be required to leave the relative safety of her computer monitors. Her sullen glares nearly made him give it up more than once, but he wrapped himself in the distance of Anubis and pressed her, and her team, harder.

Drack took it in his stride, the old mercenary crabby but understanding of the necessity, always looking at Reyes with weighing eyes yet nodding his respect when Reyes cracked down on a misstep. Vetra, already adept with both assault rifles and pistols from past military service, was coolly sarcastic, preferring to take her orders directly from Ryder. Peebee was practically uncontrollable in simulations, running off and doing her own thing or sending bots on random tests, until the day Ryder lost her temper.

 _That_ was a sight Reyes had never seen, and found himself both fascinated and a little aroused by as his girlfriend got in Peebee’s face and chewed her out. Subtler, more HR-friendly methods had failed, rolling off the researcher with no effect. Reyes had previously seen hints of a temper bubbling beneath Ryder's surface, or watched her walk away when she was on the edge of losing it, but he'd never seen it unleashed in its full, uncompromising glory.

As it happened, Ryder’s scathingly icy yet controlled rage seemed to have been the key to unlocking both her own self-confidence in leading the team and the team's assurance that she was neither fucking around nor to be trifled with despite her inexperience. After that, everyone settled into their roles and finally completed a sim to Reyes’ satisfaction. 

She was a fury in the bedroom that night as well. Not usually one to permit another to dominate him, he allowed it rather than risk finding out what would happen should Pathfinder and Anubis meet head-to-head. He was secure enough in himself that the occasional switch was novel rather than threatening, and Ryder had a hidden streak of viciousness that made her one of the few people capable of giving him pause.

“I think your team is ready,” he told her afterward. She snorted, carding her fingers through his hair. “Nowhere near the level of a career squad,” he qualified, “but at least you could handle yourselves without shooting each other.”

“What a ringing endorsement,” she snarled. Reyes tipped his head sideways to look at her with one eyebrow arched, and she sighed. “Sorry. I do appreciate everything you've put into training us. Or me, since it seems I'm the weakest link in the field. It's just…it's tough, going from the best hacker to a barely-decent saboteur.”

“Hopefully you'll never need to leave your desk, but if you do, I feel better about your making it back in one piece,” he murmured, pulling her down for a kiss. Her only reply was to climb astride him and deepen it. It was the last thing either of them said for the rest of the night, lost in each other's bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter of setup to go, and then it's time to start hunting.


	4. SAM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder teams up with Peebee to take SAM to the next level and slightly overdoes things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter with fluff and a hint of smut because I can't help it. These two just wanna play house.

After the way she'd gone off on Peebee, Ryder felt like she owed the woman a peace offering. Not an apology - she'd deserved every word of the reprimand Ryder had given - but something to indicate that they could move on and collaborate together. Recalling her intense interest in combining physical tech and AI, and Reyes’ suggestion that she'd be the one who could make a wetware integration possible if anyone could, Ryder made her way down to the secluded lab Peebee tended to haunt.

“Look who's here,” Peebee snarked after a quick, dismissive glance. Internally, Ryder sighed. She'd had a feeling the free-spirited researcher wouldn't take well to being reined in, but it didn't make it any easier to be right. 

“Hey, if you'd rather sulk for being called out than work on a new AI collaboration, I can head right back upstairs.” Ryder suited action to words and left. She made it out the door before Peebee’s frustrated noise made her pause. “Look, it's just hard being a team player, okay? I'm better on my own.” 

Turning back, Ryder leaned in the doorway. “I think we all got that loud and clear. But I'm not trying to boss you around for the sake of it. You may be in it for the tech, but the people we're going after are bad news and we need to be able to rely on each other.” _Reyes would be so proud_ , she thought to herself, annoyed at having to use manager-speak. She couldn’t stand management.

Peebee scowled at the floor, then pouted. “Yeah, I guess. Fine. If I promise to play nice and obey orders like a good little soldier, will you tell me about this project?”

With a smile, Ryder asked what she knew about wetware. The researcher’s gaze blanked. “Like implants?” 

Ryder nodded. “Specifically, whether there's a way to integrate an AI into a human neural pathway.” Shrugging out of her jacket, she showed Peebee where the microchip tracking her vitals was embedded and explained the uplink to SAM. “I think it could be more than that though. I just don't have the hardware experience or know-how.”

“At least you're making it worth my while to play soldier,” Peebee quipped, expression brightening as she made a few quick notes on a tablet. “This will take a while to develop, though.”

Chewing her lip, Ryder asked about short-term solutions. “At the very least, I need some way to be able to talk to SAM whenever I want, on an encrypted channel, and use its analytics and processing power when I'm away from my keyboard.”

“A communicator, and some kind of scanner, maybe?” Peebee asked, tapping her lips with a finger. “Hmmm, that might be doable faster. Leave it with me, I'll email you when I have a prototype.”

Ryder smiled again. “Thanks, Peebee. I'll keep working on improvements to SAM in the meantime.”

Peebee made an absentminded noise of assent, already occupied with files on her computer, and Ryder made her way out.

***

For her part, Ryder kept working on SAM’s algorithms, learning pathways, and natural language processing. She fed it more data, set it new challenges, and added a camera interface to teach it about three-dimensional shapes, objects, and faces in real-time. Another camera extension added infrared and ultraviolet wavelengths, and a chemical detector taught it to recognize odors, compositions, and the likely sources thereof. If Peebee could deliver on her scanner, Ryder wanted to be ready.

Meanwhile, the Kett continued their assaults on the refugee centres’ systems. Ryder caught and repelled them, but news reports indicated that lone stragglers and the newly-arrived were being picked off. While she was training herself, her team, and her AI, people were being kidnapped and tricked into who knew what horrors. 

If it wasn't for Reyes’ steady patience, Ryder suspected she'd have lost hers and gone on the offensive well before she was properly prepared. As it was, she worked herself to exhaustion, not even realizing it until the day Reyes let himself in and called her out on it. 

She'd given him a key shortly after he'd given her an access card to each of his places; it seemed prudent given how helpful he'd been on the occasion she'd fallen ill and nearly needed hospitalization. 

This time, she'd fallen asleep at her keyboard, forehead pillowed on arms crossed on her desk. She heard the knock, dimly, through a dream of pounding keyboard keys, but didn't realize it was real until hands shook her awake.

“Laz. Laz!” 

She woke, jerking upright with alarm. “Wha’s wrong?” she questioned blearily. He never called her by her first name unless it was serious.

His hand tightened on the back of her neck as he blew a sigh of relief. “You scared me.” 

Ryder blinked at him, brain still fogged. “I did?”

More than a hint of Anubis was in the glare he gave her as he sat on her bed. “You haven't answered your phone in two days and I come to check on you to find you slumped over unconscious at your desk. Yes, you did.”

Wincing, Ryder apologized. She hadn't realized this last bit of work had gone on so long, but she’d had the feeling she'd been on the verge of a breakthrough and hadn't wanted to stop or lose her place.

“It's fine,” Reyes replied, glancing around the small, dingy studio with the same poorly-concealed distaste she remembered vaguely from his last visit, when she'd been ill. “I just worried that you were experimenting on yourself and something went wrong.” His gaze fell on her left arm, where she'd implanted herself with a microchip. “Peebee submitted a funding request mentioning ‘work serving as a prototype for future biological hardware’, and it wasn't difficult to guess who it was intended for.”

Ryder rose and settled tiredly astride his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Sorry,” she said again, meaning it but too tired to find more words. He really must have been concerned to turn up here and check on her, given how much he disliked this part of town in general and her flat specifically.

She felt exhaustion dragging her down again even as she sat there, making her head feel heavy on his shoulder. His warmth and the familiar woodsy spice scent of his cologne lulled her further. Reyes’ arms went around her to cradle her hips and rub along her spine. Slowly, he laid back, letting her sprawl atop him. “Sleep, _pajarillo_. We can talk later.”

That sounded good. Ryder let herself go, tumbling into the depths of unconsciousness.

***

She woke curled on her side, a pillow smelling of Reyes tucked into her embrace. Delicious food smells layered over that made her smack her lips appreciatively, but the expected taste wasn't forthcoming. 

Reyes was watching her when she finally managed to unglue her eyes, leaning against the kitchen wall in black boxer-briefs and an unbuttoned shirt with a half-smile curling his lips, late morning sun shadowing the definition of his abs and sparking the gold tones in his eyes to fire. Standing there, he looked the picture of a sexy man in love even as he teased, “That's cute. The great Pathfinder eating invisible food in her sleep.”

With a half-hearted attempt to throw the pillow at him, Ryder mumbled, “Shuddup. Whatcha cooking?”

She grunted as the pillow was launched back at her face with Reyes’ usual sharp aim and her sleep-addled reflexes failed to block it. “Mushroom and Emmental omelet. Streaky bacon. Side of avocado toast,” he replied over her protest at the pillow. 

That meant he'd been to the shops because she certainly hadn't had any of that in her fridge. The list immediately halted her complaints and her stomach rumbled loudly. “When was the last time you ate?” he asked, sounding unimpressed with the noise and bringing her a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea.

Accepting it gratefully, she asked, “Umm…when did we have dinner?”

Reyes stared at her flatly. “Wednesday. You forgot to eat for nearly two and a half days?”

“I mean I had an apple. And...hmm. It was a big dinner.” _Maybe I did fall a little too far into the work. No wonder I was so tired_. She winced as Reyes pinched the bridge of his nose, then went to turn the bacon. 

“Ryder, I know the refugees are important to you. But you're important to _me_.” He didn't look at her as he plated her breakfast and brought it to her with a fork and sheet of kitchen paper. “Take care of yourself. Please,” he said, finally meeting her eyes. 

She accepted the plate after leaning to set the mug of tea on her computer desk and nodded remorsefully. It would have taken a lot for him to admit her importance to him out loud, actions being more his thing than words, and she felt bad for scaring him. Satisfied, he went to serve himself, pushing her keyboard aside to eat at the desk.

As the cheesy eggs hit her tongue she groaned in pleasure. A bite of toast followed, the rich avocado spread on top drawing a moan. “You're amazing,” she mumbled between bites, barely pausing long enough to swallow before the shoving an entire rasher of bacon into her mouth. “Oh, my god.” Reyes snorted a laugh at her exclamations, eating at a much more civilised pace.

_What would it be like to live with him?_

Ryder froze as the thought wandered across her mind, then coughed as she tried to cover it up by biting off too much toast. He glanced at her, frowning, and she waved before he could ask.

She knew where the thought had come from; for all his grumbling and worrying, Reyes seemed to like taking care of her. She wasn't sure why, given what a pain in the ass she could be, but few things made him grouchier than not being permitted to do things like this for her, or take her to dinner, or buy her a nice dress for an event he’d invited her to attend. 

No, the surprise had been having the thought at all. As shitty as her little studio was, she loved it for the independence it afforded her. She'd had a bad experience with her ex-fiancé and hadn’t been interested dating for all of the two years leading up to her meeting Reyes. Even then she'd intended to fuck him and leave him, thinking their intense chemistry was purely sexual until she'd been tempted into staying the night - and then run in fear of what it might mean.

Now they spent more time together than apart, with her joining him at his Regent's Park flat most of the week. Frowning, she dabbed at the last crumbs on her plate and sucked them off her finger. Would he want to put up with her more than he already did? He was as secretive as she was independent, and she knew she'd hit a nerve at the shooting range the other week. 

Then there were the differences in their habits. Could he share a bathroom completely, given her nonchalant messiness and his obsession with order? Or maybe the question should be, could she try to make improvements?

Did she want to? Was that changing for a man? She'd changed for her ex, and it had been a disaster. Scott had stopped talking to her after pointed suggestions and then screaming fights failed to get through to her. As much as her twin irritated her, she had to admit he'd had her best interests at heart then. Scott knew about Reyes, in the general sense that she was dating again, and hadn't said anything yet. More telling, neither had Mara, and her best friend would definitely have called her out if she thought Laz was allowing Reyes to mistreat her.

She glanced up, realising she'd been silent for a while, to find Reyes watching her. “Should I not have come?” he asked carefully. Ryder felt her heart swell at his sensitivity, understanding that he thought she was uncomfortable with his being in her space.

“No! No, I'm glad you did,” she hastened to reassure him. “I wouldn't have given you a key if I wasn't okay with you being here. I just…” She swallowed the words about moving in together and instead blurted out, “Why do you take care of me like this?”

His dark brows drew together in a frown. “What do you mean?” he asked warily. 

“This.” She indicated the now-clean plate. “Or like, when I was sick and you made me soup. Isn't that…annoying?” She squirmed without meaning to, hoping he wouldn't take it as ingratitude.

The frown deepened. “We take care of each other. Do I wish you'd have more sense than to roast yourself when you're feverish or exhaust yourself on projects? Yes.” Reyes shrugged, and she squirmed again, both embarrassed by and appreciative of his honesty. “But I'm far from perfect, and you're the only person I've been able to be myself around in fifteen years. Maybe more. Keema and Kian might know more of my past, but I don't allow them to see as much of me as you do.” 

He nudged the last scrap of omelette around on his plate, avoiding her gaze. Ryder sighed, still feeling guilty. “I just don't want to take advantage of you.”

Barking a laugh, Reyes glanced at her sideways. “Says the woman who allows me to tie her up and make her beg for orgasms whenever the mood strikes me,” he muttered. 

She blinked. “But that's just…” The hint of a smile at the corner of his lip made her trail off. “Point made. We take care of each other,” she murmured. 

They sat in comfortable silence, each with their own thoughts. After a minute, Reyes stood and extended a hand for her plate. She gave it to him and laid back on the pillows, now emotionally exhausted on top of the physical. She and Reyes didn't speak like this often - neither enjoyed talk of feelings - and on the rare occasions they did, they usually took some space for a few hours afterward. 

“Do you have more to do on SAM?” he asked over the din of hand-washing dishes. She confirmed that she did, and his next question surprised her. “What do you think of moving the computer setup at Tartarus to the spare bedroom at my flat? You could work there, if you wanted.” 

_Did he guess what I was really thinking?_ A quivery jolt made her stomach clench. This felt like a step toward moving in together, but she didn't want to assume anything. He was probably just trying to be efficient in his caretaking if she was going to fall back into the hole that was the AI project. 

Chewing her lip, she considered it. He was giving her a room, with a door, where she could do her work in peace. This building certainly wasn't conducive to it; her noisy neighbours were habitually drunk and their fights carried through the thin walls, sometimes audible even over the thumping bass of her music. Even so, she could still keep her own setup here if she didn't like spending even more time at his place. 

If it was intended as a step toward having her move in with him it was cleverly presented, with an out - exactly the kind of offer she'd agree to. She supposed he considered it an investment on his part as well, given that she would find more Pathfinder hackers for him to employ at Collective as soon as she finished a good chunk of work on SAM, each of whom would have a stripped-down version of the AI. The better she made it and the faster she finished, the sooner he'd start reaping the benefits.

 _Looking at it that way…it seems a fair enough deal. He loves me, but he also has an investment to protect_. Thinking of it as an exchange where she contributed value down the line made her feel better. “Okay,” she replied as he reappeared, having finished with the dishes in the time it took her to think.

The hint of worry in his smile reassured her further. He was taking this seriously, not trying to manipulate her. 

“We could manage it today, right? Between your Land Rover and the Nomad?” she asked, “Or just the Rover, even, given that the Nomad is pretty conspicuous.”

Relief flashed over his features at the suggestion. “Good idea. We can do it tomorrow though if you're still tired.”

She was, but she wanted to get this sorted and get back to work. “Nap with me for twenty minutes? Then I'll come with you.” The man rarely seemed to sleep, but always watched her when he thought he could get away with it and could sometimes be lulled into a nap. The open invitation to do so made him grin, and he climbed into bed next to her after shrugging out of his shirt and draping it over the chair.

Settling herself with her head on his chest, Ryder let the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and his long fingers in her hair soothe her worries and lull her into unconsciousness.

###

When it came to Ryder, Reyes had developed a simple set of rules for himself based on the lessons of the last few months.

Don't hide the big stuff.

Assume she can hack or infiltrate anything she doesn't know, given enough motivation - like a lie.

Don't underestimate her.

Give her space.

They were a solid guide most of the time, at least until she did something like losing herself in a project and forgetting to eat or sleep. Even then, he held himself back, following rule number four until she fell off the grid completely. Not answering her phone or turning up to the office for two full days without warning had seemed to qualify. 

When he hadn’t seen or heard from her anxiety had kicked in, driven by Anubis’ whispered imaginings of what might have happened to her. He'd visited enough terrible things on others to have a vivid idea of what could befall her, given the enemies she'd likely made amongst ROKAR and the holdouts in Sloane’s Outcasts. Even though he knew she was probably just working or tired he felt driven to make sure she was alright.

It didn't help that Anubis had gone from seeing her as a potential threat to growing fond of her. She made him feel safe, gave him an outlet for physical energy, and shared valuable intel that kept him safe and provided options. 

Anubis’ fondness manifested as protectiveness, especially after Spender made a play for her at a benefit dinner last month. When both sides of himself were concerned by her radio silence, he couldn't help but go and check on her. Even if it wasn't an unidentified enemy, Ryder had once sliced her own arm open to implant a microchip. The ragged, poorly-stitched scar still showed clearly on her left bicep, so Peebee's funding request had him on edge. 

Finding Ryder passed out at her desk had sent the adrenaline of pure terror shooting painfully through his veins. Had an enemy gotten to her? Had she been hurt? Killed? Had she tried more biohacking and injured herself? He hadn’t smelled blood, and the lock hadn't been tampered with, but he was good enough to get into a building as unsecured as this without leaving evidence and kill without a trace and assumed others were as well.

Fortunately, she’d been fine - this time. Worked too hard on SAM, knocked herself out not paying attention to her body's needs. He'd been cross but kept it to himself; she’d been barely conscious even as she slid onto his lap and apologized for worrying him. The moment she had gone limp against him, he’d forgiven her. After all, aside from loving her he'd benefit from the AI work, and couldn't help wondering what she'd been concentrating on so intensely once he was sure she was okay.

As evening slipped into night he'd stripped to his pants and passed the night next to her, holding her close in her relatively small bed, listening to her neighbours scream at each other and doors slam. He’d been startled to hear Drack’s voice, having forgotten the old man lived in the same building, shouting for the wankers to shut the fuck up before he called the coppers. Sirens had wailed all night as emergency services raced down the street outside, flights from City airport had roared overhead, drunks had traded insults in chavvy accents beneath her window.

He hated it.

It reminded him of the Valparaíso slum he'd grown up in, full of society's cast-offs and those who couldn't afford better. 

Ryder deserved and could afford better, even without his help. It wasn't his business or his place to make decisions for her, though, so he’d resolved not to push. But the nagging feeling of wanting her to move in with him - or at least away from this hellhole - had intensified. 

She had still been deeply asleep when he woke from restless sleep at sunrise, so Reyes had dug through her drawers until he found the old t-shirt and sweatpants he’d lent her a few weeks ago and let himself out for a run, glad he'd changed to trainers before heading to hers. 

Despite the demands on his time, he always found at least twenty minutes each day for either cardio or a high-intensity workout. It kept him in shape and helped him think. He pushed himself harder than usual, trying to work through his feelings and make a plan.

Baby steps. Not to manipulate her, but because they were both such wary individualists. They both needed it. He’d never forgive himself if he either scared her off or took on more than he was ready for and drove her away.

 _Work. Space. Privacy_. Those were the keys everything distilled down to with each foot that pounded the pavement. Could he find a solution that provided each of those?

The answer had come to him in the checkout line at the shop he'd stopped in to get breakfast ingredients. He’d mulled it over whilst cooking, keeping an eye on Ryder, who had slept through his re-entry and quick shower. 

Her guilty questions about his taking care of her had only highlighted the need for incremental shifts in their arrangement, as had her long silence when he proposed moving the tech setup currently going unused at Tartarus to his Regent's Park flat’s third bedroom. 

He felt good about it, though, especially when she’d seemed to warm to it. The solution met both their needs. A step forward, but not a leap.

***

Ryder went straight back to work when the equipment move was completed. He’d expected it and took the opportunity to finish up a few tasks that he’d walked away from yesterday afternoon to make sure she was still alive. After a few hours, he started cooking dinner, the scent of spiced fish and sauteeing vegetables drawing Ryder out of her new cave. 

“Food?” she asked hopefully, peeking around the wall that divided the kitchen from the open area comprising the living and dining rooms. Her bright turquoise eyes were shadowed by heavy dark circles that spoke to her physical state. 

Reyes turned the fish, the spices nicely blackened on one side and the flesh nearly opaque. “Almost.” 

With a few quick steps Ryder slipped into the kitchen, leaning against the sink behind him. “Can I help?” Intrigued by the fact that she was minded to be helpful and not a teasing distraction, he directed her to prepare the table and choose a wine. 

By the time dinner was served, the settings were placed exactly as he usually arranged them and a bottle of Albariño was in a bucket of ice on the table with the correct glasses. Reyes couldn’t help the surprised lift of his brows, but he made no comment other than to thank her. 

_She’s figured out that this is a baby step_. It was the only explanation, and her effort to meet him halfway - he cooked, she prepared - was certainly appreciated. _She’s figured it out and wants to see if it will work_. 

Ryder headed back to the spare room to do more work on SAM when the dishes were done, but Reyes didn’t mind. She was making an effort to match his. 

***

There was one more occasion on which Reyes had to carry Ryder up to bed. She came out of her hidey hole and peered through the glass of the closed door to his home office. When he signalled her to enter, she settled sleepily on her knees next to his chair and rested her head on his left thigh. “It’s done,” she sighed. “Or at least the main bit is. Still needs testing.”

“What’s done?” he asked, unable to stop himself from stroking her hair. She snuggled closer and started telling him about her work for the scanner and communicator she was developing with Peebee. “Does that mean you’ll get some rest, now?” He gently thumbed the dark circle under her right eye. “You’re working too hard.” 

She grinned cheekily, eyes heavy-lidded. “Says the CEO who’s still reading reports at one a.m.” He glanced at the time and blew his breath out. When had it gotten that late? “I’m almost finished with this last one. Why don’t you head up, and I’ll meet you there?” 

Deep breathing was her only reply. She’d fallen asleep, body pressed against his leg and one hand wrapped around his ankle. 

Shaking his head but not surprised, Reyes continued running his fingers through her hair as he finished reading the report. Once he’d completed it and sent off instructions, he eased Ryder into his arms and stood. She woke enough that she wasn’t dead weight, which helped getting up the stairs, and made a contented little noise when he settled her on the bed. 

“Clothes on or off?” he asked, not really expecting an answer but knowing she hated wearing street clothes in bed. It was the one area where she had stricter rules than he. 

“Off,” she mumbled, unbuttoning her jeans without opening her eyes. Reyes obliged her, gently tugging them the rest of the way off and skimming his hands up her sides to roll her shirt over her head. She lifted herself just enough to help and wiggled out of her bra with a happy sigh. “Touch me more?” she pleaded.

 _Not entirely asleep then, just tired_. They’d both been working so hard this past week that they’d barely seen one another, and she was usually fast asleep by the time he made it up to bed. If she wanted him to touch her now, he was more than happy to despite the late hour. Tomorrow was Saturday, after all. They had nowhere to be. 

He stripped off his own clothes and tossed them in the hamper along with hers, then climbed onto the bed between her legs. Leaning forward to kiss his way along her collarbone, he caressed her right breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. Her hands slowly ran up his flanks and back. “I missed you,” she breathed into his ear. “I hadn’t realized we could -” she broke off with a gasp of pleasure as he took the other nipple into his mouth, “- could be together even more but see less of each other.” 

Grunting an agreement, Reyes kissed down her belly to taste her pussy. She arched her hips up to meet his mouth, whispering, “Oh god yes, Reyes.” Tired or not, they both wanted this. 

Before long, Ryder was pleading for him to fuck her. He was tempted, but continued the steady flicking of his tongue against her clit, sliding two fingers into her hot core to stroke her g-spot. “Reyes, please!” Ryder begged, and Reyes continued fucking her with his fingers while he lifted his head and purred, “Come for me, first.”

She groaned as she rocked her hips against his hand, and he sped the movements inside her. “Come for me,” he taunted again, chuckling when she called him a bastard. Her inner walls quivered, fluttered...and there, the clench that signalled her orgasm, even as she gripped his arm and cried out his name. 

Immediately, he shifted back up the bed and plunged into her, giving a moan of his own against her neck as he caught the last of her orgasm squeezing his cock. The sharp pressure of her nails on his back spurred him to a fast rhythm with his hips.

When she growled, “Come for me,” grunting with the impact of another thrust and using his own words, Reyes unravelled. Burying himself deep, he grasped her chin and turned her head to the side to mark her neck. It was enough to send her into a second climax, her scream of pleasure and the feel of her body jerking beneath him prolonging his own. 

“I missed you, too,” he murmured against her neck when they’d both shuddered their last. If this was living together, Reyes wanted it for life. 

###

Ryder had to wear a scarf for the next few days, but that sex had been worth it. Playing house with Reyes felt good, better than she’d thought it would. She popped back to her flat every few days to check on things and swap out her clothes, but slept at Reyes’ place every night now. 

Mara had bounced with glee when Laz told her about the arrangement over brunch, after asking a few pointed questions to ensure her friend was making the move for the right reasons. Laz loved her for it because she sure as shit wasn’t about to tell her brother that she was shacking up with a former hitman who still dabbled in illegitimate business. Or maybe more than dabbled; Laz still wasn’t quite sure how much of what Collective did was illicit, but she trusted Reyes to keep her out of anything she wouldn’t want to be involved in.

Scott was too busy trying to figure out where Sloane had disappeared to, determined to get justice for his beating. The woman’s body still hadn’t been found - Reyes was apparently a master in his work - but fortunately, her twin was certain it had to do with the London Dockmaster, also missing. Sloane’s second, that Kaetus guy, was missing as well, feeding into Scott’s wild theories. Laz was not about to get involved, and she’d always been good at lying to her brother, so it seemed Reyes was safe for the moment. 

Autumn edged into winter as Ryder and Peebee put their heads together on their project. A wrist-mounted scanner came together, the most beautiful little piece of wearable tech Ryder had ever seen. She had no idea what had gone into making it, but Peebee glowed with pride at Ryder’s praise and that alone was worth the frustration of having to rewrite some of her code for SAM to integrate it with the wide, sleek cuff.

Peebee also developed a nearly-invisible earpiece that would allow her to communicate with SAM remotely. She had to speak aloud for the AI to receive commands, which was slightly less than ideal, but she could scan anything, have SAM analyse it, and privately hear the results. 

The first night she had both pieces of tech, she drove Reyes mad scanning everything in the flat. “I need data!” she shouted to his hollered query from the living room as she pointed the device at the houseplant near the door and tapped it. An orange beam activated, showing Ryder the path of the scan.

“Organic life, _Sansevieria trifasciata_ 'Laurenti', commonly called the variegated snake plant,” SAM’s modulated synthetic voice informed her after a few seconds.

“Reyes, what’s that plant by the door?” she asked, darting back to the living room. 

“Snake plant,” was his distracted reply as he took a sip of whiskey without looking up from his report. _It works!_ she thought triumphantly as he replaced the tumbler on the table. 

Struck by a sudden idea, Ryder grinned and pointed the scanner at Reyes, only to stand in open-mouthed shock as the man was up and behind her in an instant. Whiskey sloshed as he knocked the coffee table back and trapped the offending wrist between her shoulder blades. His other hand squeezed the pulse points beneath her jaw. 

“ _Por el amor de Dios_ , Lazuli,” he snapped in Anubis’ flat tones, releasing her as quickly as he’d trapped her. Ryder said nothing, wincing as she rubbed her arm and caught her breath. He only used her first name when he was being serious and despite his mild accent, his English was perfect and used by default. Slipping into Spanish for more than a nickname meant he _really_ felt whatever he was saying. 

She had a feeling she’d triggered some kind of hitman instinct and made a mental note. _Probably not the best idea to gesture at him like I have a gun when he's distracted_.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized roughly, looking irritated with himself. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. Sorry to...startle you,” she murmured as she turned to look up at him, slightly excited by the manhandling and danger despite herself. He studied her for a moment before an idea of his own sparked in his gold-hazel eyes, and she shivered in anticipation, unable to stifle a grin. 

“Come here. I’ll give you some data,” he smirked, kissing her before tripping her back onto the couch and following her down to prop himself above her. 

As much as she enjoyed the data collection, Ryder did _not_ want to know what SAM made of the next hour of vocalizations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the last of the prep chapters...now to move on with the plot! If you're still here, thanks for sticking with it.


	5. Resistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder overhears a conversation that sets her on the trail of the Kett, with help from Reyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: bondage smut scene that gets a little dirty.

Ryder strolled into the small kitchen closest to her office at the Initiative. A cuppa would go down a real treat just now, with Tann and Addison both getting their knickers in a twist over something that wasn't even important. Again.

Or at least, not as important as the hacking attempts on the refugee centres, if they had the sense to see it.

But no, this week it was internal politics that occupied the two directors. Not real life safety, not cybersecurity, not -

“I am telling you, she is missing,” Jaal hissed to Liam in the corner. Both men looked at Ryder briefly before turning toward the wall and huddling closer together. Jaal’s dreadlocks swung as he leaned to whisper to the other man.

“SAM, amplify,” Ryder murmured as she set the kettle on the stand to boil with a louder clatter than was strictly necessary to cover her quiet words. 

“Amplifying,” the AI confirmed, a comforting voice in her ear. The Initiative had excellent security, but Peebee was better. Ryder couldn't take the scanner in without question, but the comm nestled in her ear was nearly invisible and didn't give off enough of a reading for the Initiative's outdated tech to pick up, especially when she put it on stealth mode. One of the benefits of having a foot in the private sector.

“Why would this scholar go missing?” Liam was asking Jaal. The other man didn't know much more than that the refugee camps were organising some of their people to repel kidnapping by forming a resistance. Someone called Efra or Evra was leading it, but this missing scholar - Mojai Shefa? Something like that - was part of it as well. Jaal thought she was somehow important for her to be targeted. In any case, the scholar was a mentor of Jaal’s from years ago, and the man was worried.

Liam muttered that they should have listened to the warnings about the centres being a target. Pretending to look at her phone whilst the water boiled, Ryder pressed her lips together in grim satisfaction when the two men glanced at her again. _It took these two six weeks to realise that. How long will it take Addison and Tann?_

Ryder relayed what she'd overheard to Reyes that evening, tucked under his arm after dinner with a glass of whiskey each. 

“Moshae Sjefa. A renowned scholar working with refugees from her native country.” The name rolled easily off Reyes’ tongue when he repeated it back to her, and Ryder pulled away enough for him to see her cocked eyebrow. “What,” he questioned, arching one right back. “You thought I wouldn't have eyes and ears in the refugee community? This scholar and Evfra, the leader of their Resistance movement, have quietly served as a central point for organising refugees stuck outside the centres for months. In Leyton, of all places - not far from your place.” Kissing the top of her head, he added, “Evfra thinks I work for him as an information broker, so let me know if you need access.”

“He…what?” Ryder blinked twice, unsure she'd heard correctly. “When do you find time to do all of this?” 

With a smirk that sent a shot of lust to her groin, Reyes leaned close to her ear and purred, “No rest for the wicked, _mi amor_.” Ryder laughed and kissed him. He could be a bastard but he was also the most charming rogue she'd ever met. Somehow she wasn’t even bothered by the fact that he knew it. 

Eyes sparkling with the pleasure of having made her laugh, Reyes asked if she wanted him to set up a meeting with Evfra. 

“He might be able to confirm whether it's the Kett,” Ryder mused, chewing her bottom lip. “I’m fairly certain it is, based on the traces I’ve run, but I need to know more about this Archon and what they’re after.” 

The idea of being the point person made her nervous; she liked the arrangement she'd had with Reyes before. He set up the jobs and called her in, she hacked what needed hacking, took her money, and went about her business. 

_But the centres are my responsibility. I have to protect these people while they're waiting to get their lives started again. Giving them a place to stay means nothing if it means I've made them easy prey. Time to step up, Ryder._

Reyes watched her as she gave herself the mental pep talk, saying nothing as he squeezed the back of her neck in a light massage. “Okay. Yes, please. Introduce us,” Ryder decided. 

Setting down his whiskey, Reyes grabbed his phone and dialed without breaking the rhythm of his fingers on her neck. “Evfra! Yes, it’s me.” His voice was good-natured and confident, and he winked at Ryder, as the other man said something Ryder didn’t quite catch but assumed to be insulting based on Reyes’ sudden frown. “Hey, you know I only call when I have something good. No?” 

A pause, and Reyes tipped his head back to roll his eyes at the ceiling. “Fine, I’ll get to the point. One of those useless bureaucrats at the Initiative isn’t so useless, as it turns out.” He tilted his head toward her, winking again to take the sting out of it, and Ryder eased up on her scowl. “She’s not happy about the disappearances from the community, wants to do some independent digging. Off-the-record kind of thing.” 

Another pause as a deep, masculine voice on the other end made an angry response. Reyes sighed. “I know. But this one isn’t like the rest. I’ll vouch for her and her team personally. Yes, team. Some of the pencil-pushers at Collective are concerned about their image if it gets out that something they’re sponsoring is putting people at risk for kidnapping, and they’re backing her. They’re concerned her suspicions about it being the Kett are correct. But Evfra -” His teasing tone turned abruptly hard. “All of that stays between us. I’m telling you as a courtesy.”

Ryder watched, entertained by the shifts in his demeanor. With her, he was usually all charming confidence. With this Evfra, he played the coaxing and amiable underling one minute and the hard information broker the next. She’d seen him with Keema and Kian, friendly but always keeping something in reserve. He was coolly professional at work and emotionlessly superior as Anubis. Everything - facial expressions, tone, mannerisms, and body language - it all changed dramatically depending on who he was dealing with. 

_He’s a bloody chameleon. It must be exhausting wearing so many masks_. Ryder watched him as he finished setting up the meeting and hung up. He sighed, ran a hand over his face, took a sip of whiskey, and was abruptly what she'd learned to identify as himself again. 

“What?” he asked warily at whatever he saw in her expression when he turned to her. 

Settling her head on his shoulder, she shrugged. “You’re...very...convincing. It’s kind of fascinating to watch you work.”

Reyes took another swallow of whiskey, finishing his glass. “I’ve had to be many things to survive over the years, Ryder.” He sounded almost defensive, and Ryder used two fingers on the side of his chin to turn his face to hers for a kiss, tasting the whiskey on his tongue. “I wasn’t judging. Just intrigued by seeing more of this side of you. You’re like a bloody onion.”

Snorting a laugh, he replied, “At least I smell better.” 

“Mhmm…” Ryder hummed in agreement, skimming a hand over his thigh. Seeing him in his role as The Mouth, the information broker he’d pretended to be when she’d first met him, inspired her to a little roleplay of her own. “So how much do I owe for your services? It’s so hard to come by good information and connections these days.” She toyed with the button on his trousers and smiled suggestively.

His eyes narrowed for a moment before Reyes slipped back into character, a flirty, cocky grin curling his lips. “I was going to offer this one on the house, Pathfinder, but if you’re insisting…” He leaned away to refill his glass, the image of nonchalance. 

Dropping off the couch, Ryder set her whiskey aside and knelt in front of him. “I would hate for there to be a debt between us.”

“Mmmm.” Reyes cupped her jaw and ran his thumb along her lips, his gaze hot. “In that case, I have been known to accept…an exchange of services.” Ryder flicked her tongue over his thumb while opening his trousers. With a quick lift of his hips, Reyes pushed them and his pants down, already half-erect. Ryder wondered if he was remembering their first meeting, if he’d felt the attraction she had then, too. 

Getting him all the way hard was easy enough. Reyes was a generous lover, but he had a penchant for oral sex - especially if he was on the receiving end with no expectation of immediate reciprocation. 

At his light groan, Ryder glanced up to see him take a sip of whiskey and tilt his head back. His fingers combed through her hair, resting lightly and content to let her work for now. And it was work, since he had been gifted with both length and girth. Getting all of him in was a challenge, but one Ryder eagerly set herself to with lips and throat, fingers finding the spot between his balls and his ass and applying pressure. His next groan was louder, and she heard the tumbler being replaced on the table.

Reyes didn't stay hands-off for long. He never did. A few minutes in, his grasp tightened and he pulled her head up. “Shirt off. Bra, too,” he demanded with a smirk she recognized. He was going to toy with her.

Licking her lips, Ryder rolled her shirt over her head and undid her bra, tossing both aside. He leaned over to kiss her, pinching her left nipple sharply enough that she broke the kiss to gasp. He took the opportunity to tug her head back until she arched enough for him to nip the other nipple. “How much are you willing to pay for that introduction?” he asked, lips brushing against the skin of her breast.

Ryder panted, “Whatever it costs. It's important.” Reyes eased her position enough that she could look at him. His mood was high with anticipation, eyes bright enough that she could see the hints of green edging the gold in his irises. Understandable, given that it had been about two months since they'd played like this. 

“Well then.” He leaned back and guided her mouth back to his cock, controlling her pace with one hand and teasing her hard nipples with the other. Ryder moaned around her full mouth, and Reyes chuckled. “We’re just getting started. That sybian has been lonely.” 

Despite knowing better than to try protesting Ryder gave it a go anyway, which only made Reyes laugh again and hold her head down. She loved and hated the thing - loved it, because it felt so good, and hated it for the same reason. Her lover was an expert in wringing every last drop of resistance out of her, not letting her come until she was begging in earnest. On the sybian, he could well and truly break her. It was a contest they both enjoyed, and her protests were part of it for both of them as well.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered. With a groan of resignation that caught on the cock in her throat, Ryder unbuttoned the top fastener on her leather trousers and slipped her hand into her panties. Reyes released her to breathe, then started timing the movement of her head with that of her arm where it brushed his leg. 

She sped up, trying to get him to climax, and he pulled her head back. “Nice try.” 

_Of course he’d see through it_. Ryder tried looking innocent as her fingers slicked along the wetness between her lower lips, and Reyes’ hand shifted from her hair to her chin. “That’s a sweet face, but we both know it’s a lie,” he purred, chuckling at her grin. His next command was for her to give him a taste, and she offered up her fingers for him to suck. “Already that wet? Time to go upstairs.” 

Rising slowly, Ryder took her time sauntering toward the stairs, knowing the minor rebellion would set him off. Sure enough, he spanked her ass hard enough to make her jump with a yelp. “Get. Going,” he growled. She glanced over her shoulder as she quickened her pace. He wasn’t angry - he never acted against her in anger - but he was definitely not going to tolerate nonsense today. Ryder took the stairs to the bedroom two at a time and waited next to the sybian.

“Keep the panties,” he told her when he joined her, pulling white silk ropes from the toy drawer. When her leather trousers made a blue heap by her feet, Reyes gently bound her arms behind her in a long column, tugging her back to straddle the sybian when he was done. With a kiss on the back of her neck, he directed her down with a hand on her shoulder. 

With her panties on, the raised nub on the device wouldn’t be able to enter her and the ridges in front of it would gain extra friction from the fabric over her clit. “Oh, nooo,” Ryder moaned as Reyes buckled her ankles into the straps on either side, then strung the trailing end of the rope through a metal hoop he’d drilled into the wall behind her. 

“Oh, yes,” he purred, pulling the rope taut so that her arms were forced nearly parallel to the floor. Out of habit, she struggled and tried to rise, finding that she could - but that doing so put pressure on her shoulders and upper back. The more she rose, the more it hurt. He was letting her choose her torture. 

“Shit,” she swore as he pulled out the remote, setting it higher than he usually started. Reflexively, Ryder bounced upwards again, only to grunt and sit back down as her shoulders protested. Reyes was smiling when he stalked back around in front of her, pushing his trousers back down. “What, no other toys?” she taunted him. Last time they’d used the sybian, he’d had a flogger, nipple clamps, and vibrator. 

He shook his head, grasping his cock and stroking. “Not this time. You were being punished before, remember?” 

Ryder whimpered as he clicked the sybian up a notch. “Yes...ah! Reyes, pl-” 

Her pleas were cut off by his grasping her jaw and thrusting into her mouth, and he didn’t give her another chance to offer them. She tried every time he let her take a breath, only to have to swallow the words along with his length. The vibrations of the sybian between her legs and the tip of him hitting the back of her throat were an exquisite torment. 

She knew he was ready to come by the subtle enlargement of the head of his cock. Unexpectedly, he pulled out and ran a thumb over the swollen ridge of it. “I think you’ll wear it, today,” he mused. With a few more strokes, he groaned and his release decorated her breasts. The last of it he rubbed along her lips before stepping back and dropping into the armchair he’d brought up specifically to watch her like this. 

Licking the salty pearls from her chin, Ryder writhed on the sybian. It would be at least ten more minutes before he was ready again. Reyes tugged off his trousers and tossed them toward the hamper, eyes fixed on the sticky mess on her chest. “Seeing you like this is almost enough to pay off the debt,” he admitted, leaning back. 

Ryder panted at the relentless pulsation of the sybian, a noise like a sob escaping her. _He’s going for brute force today_ , she realised, surprised. Finesse was usually more his style, but he enjoyed novelty as well. This was definitely new for him. 

She tried to fight it, struggling against her bonds before settling back and sobbing again. “Please don’t leave me like this,” she begged, watching him fondle himself as she hovered on the edge of orgasm, not quite able to reach it. After a few more minutes, he rose and approached to swipe a finger through the cum on her chest. “Clean up all of this, and I’ll fuck you,” he offered. Ryder opened her mouth eagerly to accept his finger, sucking it clean and repeating until he was satisfied. 

He freed her from the loop on the wall only to push her forward on the floor, ass up and chest flush against the carpet, arms still tightly bound behind her. Tugging her panties halfway down her thighs, Reyes teased her with the tip of his dick and asked, “Is this what you want?” 

At the feel of his erection against her aching pussy, Ryder begged and pleaded. She didn’t even know what she was saying really, only that yes, she wanted him however he wanted to take her. He reached for a nipple, pinching it mercilessly until wordless cries interspersed with her pleas. 

Finally, he entered her, driving for her core. Stroke after stroke brought her closer to climax. She was almost there, hovering on the edge, when he commanded, “Now, _nena_ ,” in a rough voice. It was the nickname he’d used in the beginning of their relationship, and remembering all the pent-up desire she’d had then released her orgasm. He followed immediately, hips crashing against her bottom as he spent himself with a groan.

Ryder dropped when he released her, belly hitting the floor as she panted. Reyes’ gentle fingers carefully undid all the knots binding her limbs together, rubbing along her shoulders, back and arms. When she relaxed, he rolled her onto her back, scooped her into his arms, and settled on the bed with her spooned against him. 

“I’d say the debt is cleared, Pathfinder,” he murmured into her ear. Goosebumps raced over Ryder’s flesh. “That was the most satisfying job I’ve ever taken,” he continued, lightly caressing her from hip to breast and kissing her neck. 

“We’ll have to do business again sometime, then,” Ryder mumbled, going supine against him and already feeling the grip of sleep claiming her. The combination of emotional and physical intensity followed by tender attention never failed to wear her out. 

“Rest, _pajarillo_. I’ve got you,” he whispered. Comforted, Ryder closed her eyes, succumbing to sleep in the strength of his embrace.

***

Two days later, Ryder met Evfra at Kralla’s Song, the bar where she’d first met Reyes. He hadn’t come along this time, insisting that she take some of her team since this would be their first job together. Fortunately, Drack and Vetra blended right in, bantering with Umi and taking no shit from the rest of the clientele. 

Evfra was a tall, imposing man with tanned skin, dark brown hair, and blue eyes. With his roughly-hewn features, Ryder supposed some might consider him attractive, although he was too beefy for her tastes and the scar running from hairline to jaw on the left side of his face combined with a scowl to give him a menacing air. 

Annoyingly, he wasn’t inclined to fully trust her on Reyes’ recommendation alone. Ryder could admit it was fair enough, given the circumstances, but having to chase around London helping various groups of people was _not_ what she’d had in mind. 

Reyes only shrugged when she told him about the scientists she’d been asked to help and the heavies Evfra had asked her to free. “He’s a bastard, but you need to work with him,” he advised. “Evfra is the key to gaining the trust of the Resistance and through them, the refugees. You'll need it if you want them to talk about Archon.” 

It took her team two weeks, but Ryder did what Evfra had asked. The scientists he’d been worried about hadn’t been endangered by anything more than their own lack of common sense. Between Ryder’s hacking and Peebee’s robotics skills, they were set back on the right course. 

The heavies were a little harder, having been captured by a small cell of Kett, but Ryder managed to track them down and override the security on their cells while Vetra and Drack provided them with covering fire to escape. The job wasn’t done as quietly as Reyes’ private security team might have managed it, but they were proud to have completed it themselves. More than that, they finally had the proof they needed that the Kett were involved somehow. 

It was enough for Evfra to decide to trust them. “We think Moshae Sjefa is being held up north. Somewhere in the Highlands,” he told Ryder at their next meeting. 

“The Highlands,” she repeated flatly, swirling her glass of whiskey. “As in, Scotland? Way the fuck up north? Based on what?” 

“Scotland,” Evfra agreed, frowning at her language. Ryder sighed, finishing her drink. It looked like Reyes had been right about the need to go off-site in her hunt for answers about the Kett. One of her refugee centres was outside Edinburgh, and the idea that they might be nearby was unsettling.

With a glance at the rest of the bar, Evfra continued in a low, gravelly voice. “Our...mutual friend...helped us with a traitor several months back, taking him from Sloane Kelly and allowing us to speak to him before turning him over to the police. The traitor told us about some kind of facility near Edinburgh. When Moshae went missing we used the location finder on her phone to trace it that far, but the signal was lost a few days ago. Probably the battery."

 _Shit, they’re setting up near Taerve Uni? I can’t let them be endangered_. “And this Moshae will be able to tell me why the Kett are kidnapping refugees? How to find Archon?” she pressed, mind whirling as she realised something else. _Reyes never mentioned giving Terev to this Resistance before handing him to the police. The shady bastard probably made a double payday._ To be fair, it also seemed that he hadn't told Evfra about her own involvement with the Terev affair, but he had said discretion was his forté. She decided to let it go this time.

Evfra shrugged, his wide shoulders rising and falling slowly. “If she is still alive, I imagine she will have information, yes. She was interviewing families who had lost someone when she disappeared, and may have put some pieces together.”

Ryder sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Fine. We’ll go.”

“You will?” Evfra sounded suspicious. 

“That’s why you agreed to meet me, isn’t it?” Ryder snapped, a little too loudly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Drack turn toward her, and lifted a hand from the table slightly to indicate she didn’t need backup. The old soldier settled back onto his stool at the bar, saying something that made the bartender laugh. 

Evfra nodded solemnly. “I’ll put you in touch with one of my commanders,” he said solemnly. “Thank you for this.” 

_Fucking hell, commanders? Seriously?_ The pseudo-military parallels made Ryder uneasy, but she supposed any organization calling itself a resistance would organise itself along formal lines. “Fine,” she sighed. “Just tell ‘our mutual friend’ when your commander is ready to go.”

Sliding out of the booth, Ryder headed for the door. 

“Hey! You have to pay!” Umi shouted from behind the bar.

“For fuck’s sake,” Ryder muttered, stomping to the bar and slapping her phone down on the payment pad. The machine chirped happily, accepting the payment from her mobile wallet. “That’s all of us, yeah?” she snarled, indicating Drack and Vetra in addition to herself.

“That’s right, sweetheart.” Umi’s smile was more a baring of teeth than anything else. _How the fuck did Reyes walk out of here without paying that first time?_ she wondered as she and her crew headed for the door. 

When she asked him whilst he was cooking dinner that evening, Reyes only laughed. He took her questions about Vehn Terev more seriously though, admitting that yes, he had given the Resistance a crack at their traitor before dropping him off at Met Police headquarters. “It was fifteen minutes, in and out. Urrego waited outside and Evfra refused to tell me what he learned from Terev. Probably afraid I’d sell the information,” he explained, giving the pan of veg a shake. “Terev’s been locked up for months. Why would Moshae go missing now?”

Neither of them had the answer, and it worried Ryder. “I guess I'm going to Scotland to find out,” she replied finally, rubbing her arms. It would be cold up north; the bookies had even odds on a white Christmas in London the week after next so it was nearly a certainty that there would be snow in Scotland. 

“When?” Reyes asked, clearly unhappy with the idea yet biting his tongue about it. Ryder lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “I want to do some digging first, figure out as much of the trail as possible from here. Then I need to arrange an absence at the Initiative and get in touch with Priya Blake at Taerve Uni as well. Shit, and then there’s Scott...”

Reyes pulled her to him and kissed her forehead, holding her close until something in the pan popped. “You’ve got this, and you have a good team to back you up. Just be careful,” he murmured as he reached over to turn down the heat. “And come back to me.”

Ryder pressed her lips together in a tight, worried smile, and promised she would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the commenters - y'all gave me the motivation to get this one out.  
> No smut in the next chapter, just plot and action. Ready?


	6. Highlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder heads north, infiltrates the Kett base, and finds more than she anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay friends, this is where it starts getting into the action...

“What do you mean, she's not coming?” Keema’s perfect eyebrows drew together in a pretty frown as she topped up her glass of wine. “She always comes with you to our planning lunches.”

Reyes shrugged and pushed his own glass toward her for a refill. It was true, Ryder had started joining him for the Wednesday catch-up he had with Keema, taking the opportunity to learn of any cybersecurity needs that overlapped both Collective Industries and Kelly Group, but she'd left for Scotland that morning. “She's away. On business.” 

Keema poured for them both. “You didn't scare her off, did you? You're not just covering for -”

“What?” Reyes interrupted, surprised enough to be rude. “Scared her - Keema, she’s headed up north to look into something.”

Keema sipped her Viognier delicately, studying him. “Don't lie to me, Rey. I like her. She's good for you. You haven't been this…normal…since I've known you. I'll be terribly cross if I find out you've done something silly and she's left you.”

Reyes leaned forward, fixing his friend with a stern look. “I haven't scared her off. She's practically living with me,” he snapped, keeping his voice low to avoid drawing the attention of other diners. _Am I really that bad?_

He took a sip of his own wine, wishing it was whiskey but not wanting to hit the hard stuff this early in the day. “We think the Kett are targeting her refugee centres. I put her in touch with Evfra and he gave her a lead, some missing scholar they traced to Scotland. She's due back by Saturday,” he said quietly.

With a small noise of understanding, Keema picked at her fish. “You could have simply said so, instead of playing it close to your chest.”

Sighing, Reyes leaned back and stabbed a scallop. “I know. I'm sorry. It's just…”

“Habit. I know,” Keema finished for him. They ate in silence for a minute before she glanced at him slyly. “Living with you, is it?” 

With a glare, he corrected her. “I said _practically_ , and we are not talking about it.”

“We already are.”

“Not further.” He popped one of the chips that had come with his meal into his mouth and chewed. Keema said nothing, watching him with the Sphinx's smile. “I could go ask Kian,” she threatened finally when he didn't volunteer anything.

 _Fuck, and Kian knows where all the equipment from the private room went._ “Fine,” he caved with poor grace. “She's holding onto her flat, but she works and sleeps at mine.” 

“Your proper one or the one in Chiswick?” Keema pressed.

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Reyes replied, “The proper one. And yes, she has her own keycard, okay?” Irritation made him restless, and he shifted in his chair, crossing his arms and looking out the window at the flat grey clouds. He didn't like talking about himself and he didn't like talking about his relationship with Ryder, but most of all, he didn't like Ryder being away doing who knew what, half-trained with a new team. The fact that it had been his idea made it worse, because he had even less reason to insist she find another way.

Keema didn't reply, neatly spearing another piece of fish. “You're more than happy with her. You love her,” she observed after a minute of silence.

“Is it that obvious?” Reyes grumped.

“You're only this much of a dick when you've found feelings somewhere,” she retorted. Reyes opened his mouth to snap back and caught himself. “That's fair. Sorry.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Two apologies in less than fifteen minutes? Stars and skies, who are you and what has Ryder done with the old Reyes?”

Closing his eyes, Reyes breathed in deeply through his nose and out through his mouth. Keema's hand patting his startled him out of his attempt not to let Anubis out. “Hey, I'll leave it alone, okay? I'm just happy to see you with someone who can anchor you a bit. You've needed it.”

“Thanks,” Reyes muttered, still peeved but anxious to move on. “Now can we get back to the acquisition? What are the solicitors hung up on this time?”

***

Reyes lay in bed that evening, alone for the first time in weeks. It should have been fine; it had been his preference for almost all of his thirty years. But he'd quickly gotten used to Ryder's furnace-like warmth next to him between the sheets. The scent of amber and orange flower she sprayed on after showering, her magpie chattering and her clothes strewn everywhere but the hamper, bobby pins on the sink and half-finished cups of tea on the table, all of it was missing. 

It drove him mildly insane when she was here...and yet, it was too cold, clean, and quiet without her. 

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Reyes wondered how Ryder had become so much a part of his life without even trying. He kept having to push Anubis back into his box, warring with the side of himself that wanted to take control and track her down. 

There was no reason for it, and he knew it. She'd sent a text saying that they'd arrived safely in Edinburgh and were getting their bearings. Then the driver he’d sent, a trustworthy fellow named Kallo, had sent an email saying the same. Ryder was a grown woman with a team he'd helped train supporting her. They'd done fine in simulations. She didn't need him playing the overprotective boyfriend, and there was nothing he could do but let her work. He sighed, missing her, and finally decided to go back downstairs for a glass of whiskey.

On his way back up to bed, the phone in his pyjama pocket buzzed. He frowned, wondering who would call after midnight. _Pajarillo_ , read the caller ID. Ryder.

He answered immediately, concerned. “Everything okay, _mi amor_?” 

“Hey. Everything's fine,” her quiet voice reassured him from the other end. “I just couldn’t sleep. It's...nevermind, I'm being silly. Sorry, you were probably working or something.”

Reyes smiled. She hated talking on the phone, but she'd called him. “I'm not working. What is it?” he asked, curious.

She didn't answer for a few seconds, and he could hear the familiar sound of her body shifting in bed. “I just miss you, and it's weird because I usually prefer to be on my own and I've never missed anyone like this.” The words poured from her in a rush, as though she was embarrassed. 

_It’s not just me_. Reyes’ shoulders dropped as tension he hadn’t realised he’d been carrying fled. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he teased.

“What?” she prompted when he paused. She respected his reflexive keeping of secrets, but he knew it taxed her curious nature not to dig deeper. 

“I actually kind of prefer your mess everywhere, because it means you’re here,” he admitted quietly, setting the whiskey on the bedside table to rub a hand through his hair and laying back on the bed. 

Ryder sighed, the hint of a happy noise at the end. “In that case, I feel less silly about missing you so much when I’ve only been gone a day.”

They talked a little longer, with Ryder updating him on her plans for the next few days based on the team's reconnaissance and new information from their Resistance contact before they said their good nights.

Between his earlier conversation with Keema and this one with Ryder, asking her to move in with him properly was looking like more of a likelihood than a possibility. 

_After the holidays. We’ll see how those go_. The end of the year was a rough time for him and he wasn’t sure how having her around would affect his usual slump. For now, though, he had some choice memories of Ryder bound and begging to review, and a bit of self-love to attend to before turning in for the night.

###

Meeting up with Evfra’s commander in Edinburgh had gone smoother than Ryder had anticipated. The man was more pleasant than Evfra, and more forthcoming. The part that had her worried was the location and the details.

“So, no-one has ever seen the inside of one of these places? Really?” Ryder asked as she steered the Nomad off-road where her Resistance passenger indicated. The Cairngorms were steep, snow-covered, and at this time of year, exceedingly treacherous. She was glad Reyes’ choice of company car had been a mini-tank with exceptional handling on rough, mountainous terrain. 

The commander, who’d introduced himself as Heckt, shrugged. “None who lived to tell. The people who go in are ‘the disappeared’.”

 _He couldn’t have mentioned that before we left? Reyes is going to love this_ , she thought crossly, plowing through a snowdrift to break a trail for the small caravan of vehicles following. A flash of orange betrayed a fox darting into the undergrowth ahead of them, startled from some burrow under the snow.

Combining the Resistance’s intel with what she’d gleaned before calling Reyes last night told them that Moshae Sjefa was likely being held in a remote facility hidden in the heavily wooded mountains. The Resistance had discovered several such processing centres, where refugees were taken for an unknown purpose, as well as a number of work camps where kidnapped refugees were pressed into forced labour. They’d liberated a few of those after the government professed an inability to do anything whilst their visas were being processed, but this facility was a tougher nut to crack.

Ryder’s initial plan had been to bypass the firewalls and hack them a way in from outside the facility but some kind of jamming technology was in place, combined with a frequency scrambler that prevented her from finding a way around it. If she was going to find out whether Moshae was here, it would have to be from the inside. 

There hadn’t been time to tell Reyes the updated plan before they left, and Ryder chewed her lip nervously. Kallo, the skinny driver Reyes had sent so they’d be fresh on arrival, would probably send a report. But if something went wrong, how would Reyes find them? Vetra was with Kallo at the hotel making sure they wouldn’t have any unpleasant surprises on their return, but the jamming would prevent them being called in to help if they needed it.

 _Aha_. “SAM, store a log of location data. If our connection isn’t re-established in twelve hours, send an SOS to - the computer I spent the most time at in the last week in London.” She’d nearly said Reyes’ name, but there was no need to give him away as Evfra’s information broker. SAM confirmed the order via her earpiece.

Heckt looked at her curiously, not having been introduced to anyone named Sam, but Drack laughed. “Good thinking, kid.” 

Ryder nodded, trying to focus more on the destination point on the navigation system. A storm was blowing into the mountains, reducing visibility to almost zero as a blast of white gusted at them. 

Finally, they made it, or at least as close as Ryder and Heckt dared without more knowledge of their security systems. A convoy of vehicles wasn’t exactly subtle, even if the blizzard provided some cover. They pulled off into a thicket, the opening just large enough to hold the four vehicles. 

“Let’s be quick, this storm’s getting worse,” the commander chivvied as they all climbed out of their SUVs. 

Turning toward the facility and shouldering her light pack, Ryder said, “Once we’re through their perimeter, you take point. We’ll look for Moshae Sjefa. Let’s just try to stay safe, okay?” 

A battle-scarred woman snorted, slightly derisively. “No-one joins the Resistance to stay safe.” 

Ryder rolled her eyes and shook her head as she pushed through heavy, knee-deep snow. _That’s on them, then. I’ve got enough on my plate_. “Fine. Just stay close and don’t draw attention until we have to,” she said through chattering teeth. The wind in the mountains cut through her jacket and the bulletproof vest she was wearing.

The Resistance had scouted the area previously and discovered a potentially hackable system node in a service panel for the high fence. As soon as they came within five metres of the boundary, the connection with SAM broke with an electronic squeal that made Ryder flinch. 

She dug out a little space near the panel and sat in the snow, trying to hide her nervousness as she pulled out the tablet and portable keyboard she’d brought in her pack. Plugging in, she ran an analysis program to find out what they were dealing with. “Electric fence, alarms, _silent_ alarms...oooh, that’s a nasty little virus. Nice try, asshats.” 

Balancing a tablet and keyboard on her lap, with snow blowing across the screen and wind howling around her, was difficult. Definitely not the conditions she was accustomed to, nor would she ever have imagined herself here. But now, in the moment, focused on unraveling Kett security, it was an exhilarating challenge. Her earlier anxiety about leading a team of people into a dangerous situation was washed away by the need to hack this security.

“Got it,” she hissed, wanting to whoop in celebration but mindful of not wanting to cause a ruckus. A buzz she hadn’t really been aware of faded from her hearing, and she scrabbled around in the snow to find a stone to chuck at the fence, watching the system to see if there was any reaction.

There was none. They were in. 

“Go!” she barked, hurrying to disconnect and pack up. “I couldn’t make it permanent without tripping the backup system, so we have two minutes to cut the fence and get inside.” 

The commander didn’t wait for more urging, raising the bolt cutters he’d accepted from another Resistance fighter and snipping expertly through the fence links. When he’d cut enough to pull it back enough for them to pass bent over double, he held it and waved them through.

The Resistance group and Ryder’s small squad made it through with seconds to spare. Ryder blew out a relieved huff as the commander slipped through and dropped the fencing, shortly followed by a return of the buzz signalling the return of the electric current. The fence sparked on the cut edges but still functioned. 

Surveying the surroundings, Ryder said, “Okay. Now to get inside.” The facility appeared to have been built partially into a cliff face, clinging to the rock on the upper levels. There were no windows or doors where they were, just air exchange vents. “Vents it is,” she muttered, striding forward. It would be a squeeze for Drack, but they’d all make it in. 

The slightly more open space they piled into on the other side appeared to overlook a storage area. Several men in combat fatigues sat at desks or spoke quietly to one another. _How the fuck do we know if these guys are with the Kett?_ Ryder wondered, anxious not to kill innocent people. 

At the thump of Drack hitting the landing above them, the men looked up. “Intruders! Kill them all!” shouted one wearing a beret. _Well that makes it pretty fucking clear_.

As they pulled weapons, Ryder hunkered down and drew the Eagle pistol Reyes had modified for her with a custom heavy penetration barrel and long-range scope. _Shit, shit, shit, I’m a hacker, not a soldier!_ All of Reyes’ training meant she didn’t freeze, but the adrenaline in her veins and the blood pounding in her ears made her light-headed. “Fucking take them out!” she shouted. 

The Resistance commander was already moving to jump down into the room, followed by the scarred woman and Drack. Peebee whooped excitedly as she launched a bot into the fray. The little black drone-like machine buzzed overhead, making an irritating noise and shooting small-caliber bullets, serving more as a distraction than anything else.

Ryder peeked over the ledge, sighting at the nearest camo-clad combatant. Her first cautious shot missed, but her second took him in the leg. Blood spurted in a shocking stream of red as the high-impact shot passed through and through, apparently having hit something important. Her third hit his torso whilst he was down, and she considered him out of the fight when he slumped. 

Head spinning at making her first kill, she tried to find a new target far enough away from her comrades that she wouldn’t risk hitting them. Moving targets were difficult enough as it was, and this wasn’t a paintball simulation. This was real.

It was over faster than Ryder would have predicted. Drack flexed and strutted, preening over the number of kills he’d gotten. Peebee examined minor damage on her bot, and Ryder knelt by the man she’d killed, staring at him. There was something strange about the body, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was under all the blood.

 _I did this_. Knowing that Reyes had done it for a living made her shudder, now that she truly understood what it meant. She swallowed, nauseated by the metallic scent clogging her nostrils. This man had died directly at her hands; the rest had died at her word.

“It gets easier, kid.” Drack’s gravelly voice was sympathetic behind her as a heavy hand clapped her on the shoulder. 

“Should it?” she asked quietly. _I was a hacker. What am I now?_

“I can’t answer that. But it does.” Weighty footsteps moved away from her, and she rose. None of her people had died, and it was time to move on. 

She rose, opening her mouth to order everyone to move out when a cry arose from one of the Resistance men as he poked around in stacked crates near one of the doors. “These are...I recognize these things. My people are here!” 

Outrage, disbelief, and fear made the words harsh, and a new wave of nausea hit Ryder. She hadn't realised that some of the Resistance were refugees themselves, or closely connected with them. It was one thing to go into a situation on educated guesswork. It was another to have that guess confirmed, the human cost of it laid bare twice over in the dead at their feet and the belongings of the disappeared crated around them. _We have to find out what’s happening here_. 

“If we were a surprise, I doubt we’re one anymore,” Ryder pointed out to the assembled group, gathering herself through sheer force of will despite the twisting of her guts. 

Heckt nodded. “You have the best chance of locating Moshae Sjefa. We’ll attack head on and provide a distraction.”

Ryder frowned. “That sounds a little like suicide.”

“We’re ready for anything,” the commander replied solemnly. 

_That’s their choice_ , Ryder reminded herself. She might be leading this circus, but she could only be responsible for the people she’d brought with her. With a heavy heart, she wished them luck and watched them slip through one of the room’s exits.

As the door shut behind them, Ryder sat at one of the desks edging the room and jiggled the mouse. The screen went from blank to graphic porn. “Whoa, okay…” she mumbled, closing the window and trying to access the internal network.

“Whatcha doing? We should go look for this Moshae person,” Peebee chirped at her shoulder. 

“Have you seen how big this place is? I want to see if I can find records. And cut the jamming blocking SAM.” Ryder started looking for an easy access point.

After a tense ten minutes, she'd hacked into the security system, disabling the jamming and reconnecting to SAM in her earpiece. “Hello, Pathfinder,” it greeted her. Ryder couldn’t help her grin. “Hey, SAM. Good to have you back.” She slotted a USB drive with a wireless connection, already tethered to the earpiece, into the computer. “SAM, I’m backing up some files. Let me know if you see some way to shut down this facility for good, and flag anything about Archon for later review.” The AI could parse the files a lot faster than she could open and read them, hopefully getting them on their way and out before the Resistance fighters hit something they couldn’t handle. 

A map was the next thing Ryder pulled up. Another few minutes reviewing it gave them a route to an area noted as “containment”. _Probably our best bet_ , Ryder mused, chewing on her lip. 

SAM broke into her thoughts. “Pathfinder, the same backdoor that permitted access to the security system would allow me to overload the generators and destroy the facility. However, the blast would be lethal to any organic life in the immediate area.”

 _How many people are here?_ “That’s not ideal,” Ryder pointed out. As she stood and signaled Peebee and Drack to follow she relayed what SAM had said. 

“Let’s call it a last resort,” Peebee proposed. Ryder agreed. There had to be another way. 

The facility only got stranger the further into it they penetrated. Strange decontamination chambers that triggered automatically had them all wondering what exactly was being done here. _Please don’t tell me they’re using refugees as medical test subjects_ , Ryder prayed. That would be worse than the forced labour camps.

The Resistance fighters radioed to confirm that some of their people were indeed being held as prisoners. Moshae wasn’t among them, and the dimly-lit corridors were eerily empty. 

The small squad followed Ryder as she heeded SAM’s promptings for turns in the maze of hallways, eventually opening a door and surprising a small contingent of heavily armed Kett. “Kill them all!” shouted one in a beret, giving Ryder an uncomfortable sense of déjà-vu. 

This fight was more desperate than the last without the half-dozen Resistance fighters backing them up. Without Peebee’s annoying drones to distract the enemy and Drack’s cool gun hand, they might have been overwhelmed. Ryder just focused on pushing through the sick feeling causing her stomach to roil, managing to take out another Kett before the fight was over. 

After catching her breath, Ryder noticed a wide glass wall that looked like it was coated in the same material Reyes’ office windows were. Poking around on the control panel set flush into a slim shelf running the length of the wall, she found the button to change the glass from opaque to clear. 

An open area the size of a football pitch sprawled below, with a massive statue towering over all. Rows of men and women Ryder assumed to be Kett were arrayed in orderly rows with hands held as if in prayer, and something clicked in her mind. Those below, and the dead in this room, all had varying levels of physical transformation, bordering on deformity, unlike any she’d ever seen. Exposed bone and weeping sores, for the most part, but also a handful that were even larger and more heavily muscled than Drack - unnaturally so. 

_What the fuck is going on here_ , Ryder thought, biting her lip as she recalled the decontamination chambers. It was like a religious cult combined with the doctor’s surgery from a horror film, and it put every animal instinct she had on edge.

Movement below drew her attention. Bound refugees were being led to the front of the line, and a tall figure with more advanced physical symptoms than the rest stepped forward. _A ceremony? For what?_

Further prodding on the control panel revealed an audio setting. “You are Chosen by Archon,” the tall officiant was declaring. “Chosen to be exalted.”

“What. The fuck. Is ‘exalted’?” Ryder muttered, having a feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer. “And where is Moshae Sjefa?” She had a photo of the woman, provided by Evfra, and had spent the long drive up from London studying it. Moshae wasn’t down there, but dozens of strange pods were. Drack scowled and Peebee shifted uneasily, neither of them having an answer.

Heckt’s voice broke into her worried thoughts. “You wanted a distraction? We just set our plan on fire!” 

“What -”

Ryder’s question was cut off as a deafening rumble, accompanied by quaking walls, rolled through the facility. _An explosion, had to be. What the fuck are they doing?_

Down in the arena, a video feed activated in front of the statue. “Explain,” demanded the man now visible on it as the assembled Kett knelt. 

At least, Ryder thought it was a man, based on the voice. It was hard to tell. If those with sores were the beginning of whatever they were doing, this person must be the final product. The cartilaginous bits, nose and ears, were gone, with bare bone flashing. Spurred growths broke through the skin in a crown around his head and along the areas where flesh lay thin over bone.

It looked intentional, and it was horrifying. 

“We’ve been breached. I will defend the temple,” the leader in the arena was saying. Ryder’s mouth twisted. She had no problem with people believing whatever they wanted, but this seemed more like a cult that harmed people. That, she had a problem with.

“Wait! Is Moshae among these, Cardinal?” asked the man on the screen. Could it be Archon? 

The cardinal shook her head. “No, it awaits final exaltation.”

“Bring it to me.” The voice of the man on screen was coldly commanding, and the Cardinal trembled.

Heckt’s voice broke in. “What are they doing?”

“I have no idea,” Ryder replied, unable to hide her disgust. “But we have to save Moshae. She's our first priority.”

“Your priority,” the commander said darkly, reminding Ryder that he probably had people trapped here. She felt for him, but if they took their eye off the prize - the bounty of information Moshae likely carried - this trip would only be partially successful.

“My team, my priorities,” Ryder snapped coldly, channeling Anubis and trying to mimic his deadly certainty. It worked, for the moment, and Heckt didn't respond.

Everyone pushed forward, fighting their way through more rooms of Kett. It was harder than before now that they were fully alert for intruders, and Ryder took a graze to the top of her shoulder in a gap on the bulletproof vest Reyes had supplied them with. She had to kill or wound a few more people, but they weren't giving her much of a choice.

In that sense, Drack had been right. It got easier, but only because she didn't have time to think about it or look at the bodies as they passed. The old mercenary took out the majority of their enemies, but Ryder and Peebee backed him up.

“It’s like a weird church,” Owwin said at one point, echoing Ryder’s earlier thought. She shook her head, trying to focus. Pushing forward like this, constantly under fire, was more exhausting than any of Reyes’ simulations had been.

By the time Heckt radioed in about a room full of prisoners who refused to evacuate, Ryder was running on adrenaline and fear alone. The graze on her shoulder ached, and her chest itched where blood had run down under the vest. Her shots grew sloppier as her hand started to shake. The report of prisoners forced her to focus, though, because if they wouldn't evacuate then SAM’S suggestion to blow the generator was looking shittier than ever.

And yet, it might be the only way to stop whatever madness was going on here.

The squad stumbled into a room full of pods like those they’d seen in the arena. There wouldn't be time to scan them all, even with Peebee's bot helping, but there was a computer at a desk against the wall. 

Ryder stumbled over to it and kicked the rolling chair away, exhausted but sensing that if she sat down she wouldn't stand back up. Slamming her Eagle down with none of the caution Reyes had drilled into her, she hacked into the computer network with trembling fingers.

“Found her,” she announced. “Shit, they're taking her out of the facility. I did not go through all of this to lose her! SAM, can you get us there some way other than the main corridors? We don't have time to play silly buggers shooting at these assholes.” SAM confirmed and Ryder gathered up her pistol, wondering if it had been that heavy before she put it down.

The AI’s route took them through access passages that forced Drack to stoop and made him grumble. Ryder ignored it, too tired and hurting too much to give him any attention over it.

They got stuck in another decontamination room, locked automatically by the horrifying scene taking place in the next room. A man wearing only ragged jeans was hauled out of a pod and injected with something from two syringes that made him scream and writhe in agony on the floor.

 _This whole day has turned into nightmare fuel_ , Ryder thought, turning to the corner and leaning with a hand on the wall to fight her heaving stomach. She understood now why Reyes didn't sleep much. If his past had exposed him to anything like this day, he probably had enough nightmares to last a lifetime. _No wonder he was so worried_. Ryder wasn't sure what she'd expected when she’d gotten the idea to hunt down Archon, but it hadn't been this.

“Pathfinder, I've decrypted facility records indicating that experimental gene therapy is carried out here.” SAM’s inflectionless synthetic voice cut through the fog of nausea and gave her something to fasten onto. “Subjects are selected from the forced labour camps and brought here for processing.” _It just keeps getting worse_.

The screaming in the next room cut off abruptly and a minute later, the decontamination room unlocked. The room beyond was empty.

“What we just saw might be happening to Moshae right now! Come on, guys, let’s clear this place!”

SAM's directions took them past more rooms, to an upper level. Peebee released a swarm of creepy little spider bots as they went, saying they would explode if they encountered lifesigns within a close proximity to the radio frequency her defense bot had picked up. The bot in question hovered behind them, silent now that it wasn’t harassing enemies. 

Ryder bit her lip, tasting blood this time, and worried that more captives would be injured but deciding it was probably better than forced gene therapy for unknown ends.

As they spilled out of the access passage onto the upper level, they saw the Cardinal from before dragging a slim woman with long brown hair toward a waiting helicopter. Ryder immediately recognized her from the picture she'd been given and swore before calling out. “Hang tight, Moshae Sjefa! We’re coming for you.”

The Cardinal whirled. “You will not take her!”

Hurting, sick, and completely pissed off, Ryder hollered back, “No, _you_ will not take her!”

With a snarled curse, the Cardinal threw Moshae to the ground, reaching into her robes to draw a shotgun as the pops of miniature explosions announced company incoming from the rear.

Ryder rolled her injured shoulder, hoping she'd be fulfilling her promise to go home to Reyes when this day was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More like this is planned, so please let me know what you thought. Hope it was believable given the setup chapters.
> 
> Thanks to the previous chapter's commenters; it gave me a burst of motivation to get this chapter done :)


	7. Scholar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder is forcibly reminded of her mortality and meets Moshae Sjefa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon-typical violence in this chapter.

Reyes stomped into Tartarus in a bad mood too early in the day. Kallo had reported that Ryder had left for the Scottish Cairngorms that morning at the head a crew of Resistance heavies. It was what he’d feared, what he’d tried to train her for, but he did _not_ have to be happy that she’d need to make use of the training. 

He’d genuinely hoped that there would be a way to rescue this scholar without Ryder having to put herself in direct danger, but it seemed some kind of sophisticated jamming software was making it impossible. That, and Ryder had no understanding of the word “delegation.”

Sometimes, he hated being right. 

Kian took one look at him as he approached the bar and plonked down an entire bottle of whiskey alongside a tumbler. “Do I want to ask where your better half is?” he asked cautiously, his tone graver than usual. 

Pouring a hearty measure for himself and downing it, Reyes slid onto a stool before replying. “She’s in Scotland. On a job,” he said, remembering the conversation with Keema and making a conscious effort to be more transparent.

“That’s not a good thing,” the bartender guessed, eyebrows lifting as he grabbed a rag to wipe down the bar. Reyes poured himself another serving of whiskey and spun the glass between his fingers. “It would be fine if I didn’t think she was going to have to use the training I gave her.” 

Kian stared at him, hand frozen on the bar, before blinking and leaning forward. “Wait a minute, mate. First off, you trained your girlfriend? In what?”

Flicking his gaze upward, Reyes eased his grip on Anubis and gave him a flat, cold stare. 

“Shit,” his friend breathed. “You wouldn’t train Keema even though her family was murdered. What the bloody hell did you get Ryder mixed up in?”

 _First Keema, now Kian. Why the fuck do they think it’s all me?_ His annoyance must have shown in his expression, because Kian raised his hands and stood, backing away a step. “Sorry...sorry. Okay, she’s on a job. What happened?” 

Reyes took a sip of his drink before replying. “There’s reason to believe the Kett are targeting her refugee centres. She’s not getting any support at the Initiative, so she’s insisting on taking care of it herself.”

“And you know better than to clip her wings if you want to keep her, so you’re helping,” Kian mused. Reyes saluted him with his glass and had another swallow. 

“Jesus, Reyes.” The bartender folded his arms and stared at him. “I don't know whether to be impressed that you've grown up a little, or terrified that you'll get the lass killed.”

The now-empty tumbler slammed to the bar hard enough to draw attention from a nearby table. Those patrons quickly turned their attention elsewhere at Anubis’ glare. “I won't get her killed,” he told Kian icily. “I'm giving her the tools to keep herself safe.”

Kian shook his head sadly. “I hope you don't. Because if you do, this -” a waving hand took in Anubis’ current state of tethered violence. “This is going to make you do something that will send you to hell right behind her. Believe it or not, I’d be sad to see you go, mate.”

Anubis exhaled heavily and dropped his head to the bar, regretting it immediately when spilled booze made a sticky spot on his forehead. Snarling silently, he snatched at a napkin and rubbed it off. _Kian's not wrong. You need to be colder than this_. But it was Ryder on the line; he still hadn't worked out how to separate his feelings for her from everything else. 

“She’ll be fine,” he muttered, pouring another glass. The holidays never went well for him, and a worm of fear had started eating away at his gut when he’d received Kallo’s email. As he took another sip, he prayed that Ryder wouldn’t be the latest casualty on his list of Christmas-time losses.

###

A sudden impact at her back propelled Ryder forward, followed by another, and a third. She hit the crate she’d been taking cover behind hard enough to knock the breath from her, and she’d had little enough to begin with as she raced to avoid the Cardinal’s shotgun blasts.

Two more thuds into her back knocked her down and onto her face as she tried to rise. She panicked, mind scrambling to figure out what was happening. “Ryder!” Peebee called, sounding frightened. A whining whirr pierced her eardrums as the defense drone whizzed overhead, hassling a squad of Kett who had gotten around behind Ryder. 

Wheezing, she took the hand Peebee was extending and tried to force her legs to push her forward. “Goddess, you’re lucky! All of those shots hit your vest!” Peebee’s eyes were wide as she pushed Ryder ahead of her to crouch behind an overturned desk. Ryder could only cough, struggling to breathe as she knelt, one hand on the floor and one clutching her Eagle. 

_I was shot?_ She’d laughed when Reyes insisted on sending bulletproof vests, accepting to indulge what she’d thought was a healthy dose of overprotectiveness. She wasn’t supposed to be in combat; she was a hacker, she was supposed to be safely away from the shooting and the blood and the danger. 

“I should have died?” she rasped. Peebee winced. “I should be dead,” she muttered, reeling. Without Reyes, without his fucking paranoid insistence that she learn to shoot a gun, that she have a team, take a bulletproof vest with her...without him, she’d have run off into this mess completely unprepared. 

And she’d be dead.

“Kid! Take those bastards out!” Drack roared from the other side of the room, breaking into her racing thoughts. Ryder shook herself, gritted her teeth, and peered over the edge of the desk. Drack was pinned down by the Cardinal’s shotgun on one side and the pistols of the Kett who had come in behind her on the other.

“Fuck,” she swore. Her aim had steadily grown worse as she grew more tired, and she was low on ammo. “Peebee, any fun toys you’ve held back?” she hissed, looking for her own pack. It had been abandoned early on, the weight of it slowing her down. The Cardinal was fast as a snake and wickedly good with that shotgun. Ryder felt lucky only to have the shots in her vest and the one graze across her shoulder from earlier in the mission. 

That wound ached and throbbed, flaring up again as she thought about it. The cold in the space, open to the howling winds outside, didn’t touch it. She was doing too much running, feeling overheated with the exertion and the weight of the vest.

Peebee was saved from answering by the reappearance of the Resistance fighters boiling into the fight from behind the Kett. “Oh thank fuck,” Ryder gasped, popping out of cover to fire at the Cardinal and ease the pressure on Drack. 

Almost immediately, three slugs thudded into the chest of her vest, knocking her flat on her back. Ryder gasped for breath, panicking anew when she dabbed at her chest and found blood before realising it was probably just from her shoulder. The snatches of air she was getting weren’t bubbling the way they would be if the bullets had penetrated the vest and hit a lung, but all she could think was that she should be dead _again_. If the Kett had aimed for her head and not her torso, she would be. 

_Or maybe they did aim for my head, and are nearly as bad a shot as I am_. She tried to laugh, choked on it, and fought back a sob instead. _I should be dead. What am I even doing here?_

She realised there was silence in the room a moment before Drack’s face came into view over her. The beefy old man shook his head. “You got lucky, kid. But hell, better lucky than good, right? Maybe next time.” He reached down and tugged Ryder to her feet with a strong grip on her right forearm. She stumbled, catching herself on the edge of the desk with her left hand and hissing in pain when it put too much pressure on her injured shoulder. 

“Moshae?” she asked between gritted teeth. Drack nodded toward the open hangar door, and Ryder started limping over. Moshae was still on the floor, shaking her head as if dazed. _Drugged?_ Ryder wondered, kneeling heavily beside her, noting the mottled shades of purple and green from fresh and fading bruises on every inch of visible skin. “We’ve got you,” she told the woman. “We’re getting you out of here.” 

“No-one has ever returned from behind Kett walls,” the brown-haired woman said, sounding confused. 

“I dunno the rules yet,” Ryder sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face, “but this place is on alert. We have to get out of here, now.” 

With Peebee’s help, she got Moshae to her feet. Drack hung back, watching for more Kett. Once standing, Moshae said, “I’m not the only one here. They took an entire Resistance cell.” She still sounded as though she was speaking from a dream, and Ryder ran her wrist scanner over Moshae, worried. “SAM? Can you pick anything up?” 

“Abnormal readings,” the AI reported back a second later. “Signs of immune system damage.”

Ryder had no idea what to do about that, but a scraping sound pulled her attention away to where the Cardinal was struggling to rise, coughing blood. “You will not take it,” their opponent insisted. “It is meant for Archon himself!” 

_So that_ was _Archon on the video screen_. Ryder scowled. Every single thing about this place made her uncomfortable. Not just being shot at, although that was bad enough. The experiments, the human trafficking, even this dehumanising habit of referring to captives as “it” whilst other Kett were referred to by gender. 

“She’s coming with us,” Ryder snapped, starting to edge around the Cardinal. Moshae dug her feet in. “Wait, I want to know why the Archon -”

“Arrogant simpletons!” the Cardinal proclaimed, interrupting, and Ryder glared. _She said what now?_ The Cardinal continued without noticing. “This is a gift! Who are you to deny it?”

The last threads of Ryder’s temper snapped. Dropping Moshae’s arm, she got in the Cardinal’s face. “You are kidnapping people and experimenting on them!”

The Cardinal looked sadly at her, blood still oozing from her nose and the corner of her mouth. “These Chosen are serving a purpose greater than your ability to understand. Like them, I was once wretched, but exalted Archon shared his gift with me. I stand on the shoulders of his greatness, as they do. As you shall,” she finished, her calm knowingness setting Ryder’s teeth on edge. 

_This is fucked. Up_. Ryder started to tell her opponent so when SAM chimed in. “Pathfinder, radio signals from multiple vehicles approaching your location from outside this facility are beginning to interfere with our connection.”

“Is there an off switch for this horror palace?” she asked the AI. SAM told her it could access the generators if she got to a computer and set them to overload. His voice skipped in a few places, which she put down to the interference. 

“Shit,” she muttered before relaying all that the AI had said. An uproar greeted her words, Heckt and the Resistance fighters insisting on getting their people out, Peebee protesting that there was no way they could open all of the prison cells and those weird pods the captives were being held in before Kett backup arrived, the Cardinal begging them to leave her “sacred temple” intact, swearing that she would help if they left the place standing. 

Ryder squeezed her eyes shut and fisted her free hand, not wanting to make this decision. She wasn’t a leader, she was a hacker. She did best alone, from her computer. She hadn’t wanted this. 

Moshae’s voice broke in. “No! Even if I die here, this place must be destroyed. The Kett will simply fill it again when we’re gone.”

 _They're her people, and she’s the only one who has been through this hell and can talk about it. If that’s what she wants, that’s what we’ll do_. Leaving everyone bickering behind her, Ryder strode to the computer she’d spotted on the other side of the room. Amazingly, it hadn’t been hit by any bullets, although the desk it was on had a few splintered holes in it. 

Holstering her pistol, she pulled the USB drive connected to SAM from her pocket with cramped fingers and slotted it in. “Do it, SAM,” she ordered, heart clenching at the thought of all the kidnapped people about to die. More death. More blood on her hands. 

Enraged at the choice she’d been forced to make, Ryder drew her pistol as she stormed back to the group. “Let’s get the fuck out of here before we’re blown straight to hell,” she snarled, her vision blurred by tears. Everyone fell silent, staring at her. “I said, _let’s get the fuck out of here! Move!_ ” she screamed. The Cardinal started moving as well, and Ryder shoved her hard enough that she fell, disgusted by the blood that stuck to her hand. “No! Not you!” 

Leveling her pistol at the Cardinal’s heart, Ryder backed away, scrubbing the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve. The first explosions sounded from deep within the facility, and with a sob, she turned and ran. 

***

Hours later, Ryder sat with her elbows on her knees next to Moshae’s bed. Heckt had taken them to a small clinic where wounds could be treated without the nosy attentions of a hospital staff, glowering with disapproval at her decision to destroy the facility but unwilling to gainsay Moshae Sjefa. Whoever the scholar was, she was highly respected among both the refugees and the Resistance. 

Ryder herself had refused all but basic treatment, covering her wound and cleaning the blood from her chest. As much as it hurt it was just a scratch, or so she told herself. 

“So, the facility. What’s the purpose of all that?” she asked quietly. _Were all those lives worth it?_

Moshae shifted to look at her, blue eyes bright with whatever medication she’d been given. “They call it exaltation. They believe those who receive it are given a great gift.” Ryder recoiled in disgust. She’d seen the Kett who must have received this “gift”. It was not something she’d call a gift by any stretch of her darkest imaginings. “It’s a complex genetic manipulation,” Moshae continued. 

“So...they manipulate genes. Why?” Ryder had to get to the bottom of this. 

With a bitter smile, Moshae replied, “The future of the human race, or at least, that’s the line they indoctrinate their people with. And yet...I wasn’t brought there to be transformed. For weeks Archon held me, showing me broken pieces of tech, strings of numbers, maps. He beat me when I wouldn’t speak. He’s obsessed.” 

Ryder frowned. “With what, though? What does Archon want? Why is he stealing people? And why you in particular?” 

“Because his genetic experiments are failing and I know what he’s looking for, even if I don’t know where it is exactly.” Pushing herself up, Moshae locked eyes with Ryder. “He’s looking for a project called Meridian.”

“Meridian,” Ryder murmured, burying her face in her hands. “What the fuck is Meridian?” She’d thought the answer would be simpler, or hoped it would be, and her heart sank at the thought that there was more to this than kidnapping, murder, and medical experimentation.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Moshae admitted. “But I know where we can get more information.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter to balance out the longer previous chapter. The next one is mostly done, but we have a holiday this week and I'll be traveling so please be patient!
> 
> Hopefully this one was ok for y'all :)


	8. Consolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder gets home, and Reyes has his hands full trying to figure out what happened for her to return with physical and emotional wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: brief descriptions of medical experimentation / body horror, human trafficking.

Reyes looked up sharply when the front door swung open and bounded up to meet Ryder at the short entry hall. It was nearly ten in the evening on the Saturday after she’d headed north, and he’d eagerly awaited her return. Kallo’s report had been frustratingly light on details - the man was a driver, not an operative, after all - and Ryder had been unusually evasive, saying only that they’d been successful and she missed him.

Despite her evasions on the phone, she seemed happy to see him, smiling and bright-eyed, although tiredness hung heavy in every line of her body. She held herself gingerly as she leaned in for a kiss, bag and bike helmet both held awkwardly in her right hand. _Injured, left side_ , he guessed, mind working even as he savoured the press of her lips against his. They were warmer than usual, and he felt for her temperature under the guise of caressing her cheek before stepping back to take her measure. _Definitely warm. Mild fever. Infection_.

Eyes narrowed, he noted the stiffness in Ryder's left arm and the careful way she tilted her head to the left slightly, as though trying to relieve pressure. “What did you do to your shoulder?” he asked neutrally. 

Her eyebrows flashed upward. “Who told you?” she demanded. Reyes sighed, unhappy about being right yet again. 

“I can read bodies, _pajarillo_ , and yours is screaming. _Muéstrame_.”

Ryder was still learning Spanish, but she usually caught the gist of simple commands and tended to take anything he said in his mother tongue more seriously, which was what he'd intended. He’d seen her make a theatrical production out of a paper cut, but anything serious she tended to hide or ignore. Her evasions and pretended casualness now worried him. _That’s my trick_ , he admitted to himself, feeling guilty now that the tables were turned. 

Sighing, she set her bag and helmet on the side table, carefully eased out of her jacket, and pulled the neck of her shirt to the side. A white bandage, spotted rusty brown with dried blood, contrasted with her tawny skin. “I was gonna show you after I told you what happened,” she hedged, eyes darting to his face and away as he stepped forward. Gently, Reyes started to peel up the tape at the edges. 

He paused at her sharp intake of breath, glancing at her face in time to catch fluttering lashes and the quick dart of her tongue along her lips. It was the strange expression of blended pain and pleasure he usually only saw when he used the flogger on her, or tugged on nipple clamps.

“Masochist,” he murmured, kissing her on the cheek before continuing to carefully peel the bandage back.

“You love it,” she quipped between gritted teeth.

“Only when it's sex,” he returned absently, focusing on the wound. It was minor - or at least, it should have been. “Bullet graze. Taken early in the mission,” he observed aloud. 

Ryder tried to turn to look at him in surprise, flinching when the movement tugged the raw, inflamed edges. “How the fuck did you know that?”

“I've had a few, and the edge of yours is completely torn up where your vest or pack rubbed it raw while you kept moving.” He gently replaced the bandage, stepped past her to the closet and pulled out his heavy wool coat. “It’s also infected. Let's go.”

Cocking a hip, Ryder fisted her right hand on it and scowled. “I just got home. And I'm not explaining a bullet graze at A and E. The police and Scott will both find out. Do you want to find out what happens when my brother the journo gets wind of this story? I fucking don’t.”

Reyes schooled himself to patience. She was tired and hurting, and even when she wasn't those two things, she was stubborn and contrary. He took pleasure in breaking her of it in the bedroom but needed her compliant now, which would require gentler methods that wouldn't put her back up further. “ _Mi reina_ ,” he coaxed, “I know a doctor who will treat it, no questions asked.” He picked up her coat and held it for her.

Not one to give in immediately or gracefully, Ryder stood rooted where she was and glared. “He knows a doctor,” she muttered when he didn’t budge, before turning around and shoving her arms through the sleeves, a squeak of pain escaping her when she was forcibly reminded of her shoulder. Reyes winced behind her but made no comment. He didn't like seeing her hurt like this, but she'd earned that.

He ushered her out to the Land Rover parked out front, opening her door for her before climbing into the driver's side. As Reyes pulled away from the curb, he dialed Nakamoto’s number on the centre display’s touchpad from memory, hoping the doctor still had the same one.

Reyes donated regularly to Nakamoto's clinic, partly in thanks for past services and partly because the man was one of the few people not in his inner circle who knew he'd been a hitman - and was still alive. It couldn't hurt to keep him sweet, and it meant that if there was an emergency that couldn't be taken to hospital, Reyes had somewhere to go.

Or now, somewhere to bring Ryder.

Luck was with them and the doctor not only picked up on the second ring, but also advised that his clinic had moved from Old Street to King’s Cross, a little closer to Regent's Park. Reyes told him what he'd observed of the wound and then transferred the call from the car’s display to his phone and handed it to Ryder to give the doctor her details for faster treatment. 

“Female. Twenty-two. Mixed race, dual national American-British. AB negative. Yes, tattoos, no piercings. No, no major surgeries, but I've had stitches a few times. No allergies, unless lactose intolerance counts. Nothing infectious, nothing hereditary,” she murmured almost inaudibly in response to Nakamoto’s questions, eyes closed and leaning her face against the window. It would leave a smudge but it would also cool her a bit, so Reyes didn’t say anything. He listened keenly, knowing he should mind the road and his own business but thirsty for any and all information about her. “Okay. Thanks, doctor.” She ended the call and set his phone in the cup holder.

Reaching across, Reyes rested a hand on her knee. Something had happened in Scotland, but he wasn't going to push her to talk about it. Her coming back with a bullet wound meant she'd been shot at, which meant she'd likely shot back. He hadn't been quite sure how Ryder would take that and his gut clenched with worry, especially when she gripped his hand.

When he glanced over the knot in his stomach tightened to see a tear track glittering on her cheek in the light from the streetlamps. He swallowed and squeezed her hand back, trying to comfort her without hassling her. She'd tell him faster if he didn't press. 

Whatever had happened, Reyes had a feeling Ryder would need someone to talk to, and he doubted she'd tell her best friend or her brother what she'd been up to this past week. It had been made crystal clear that neither of them were in the least bit criminal, and that while her friend was forgiving where nobody was harmed, her twin would feel obliged to investigate and bring all wrongdoing to light. Reyes had promised to be on his best behaviour should be ever met either of them, but admitted looking forward to a game of wits with Scott. Ryder had not been enthusiastic about the idea.

The visit to the clinic was uneventful. This one was slightly less run-down than the previous clinic had been, but only slightly. The furnishings were dingy and the floor badly scuffed, a few panes of glass cracked and hanging on by the grid of safety wire embedded in them. A single addict was in the waiting room, twitching and trying to hide his face. That suited Reyes; he didn't want them to be seen, either, nor did he want to have to kill someone later if they recognised him.

Ryder's wound was infected, as Reyes had thought, and Dr Nakamoto prescribed some antibiotics. She accepted the scrap of paper with a murmur of thanks and handed it straight to Reyes, wincing and swaying as the gash was abraded, cleaned, and sutured. Once a fresh bandage was applied, Reyes gave the doctor a generous cash “donation” and they headed back home.

“I'm sorry,” Ryder mumbled suddenly, reaching for his hand. He gave it to her, sensing there was more and saying nothing. “I shouldn't have treated you like that. You were just trying to take care of me. Again. And you were right about taking the damn vest. So...sorry.”

“Apology accepted, _amor_ ,” he said, pulling her hand up to kiss it before resting them both on her thigh again. She might be hard-headed, but she was also one of the most sincere people he'd ever met, never qualifying an apology or looking for one where it wasn't owed. Reyes found it refreshing, and worth dealing with her occasional snits. The comment about the vest redoubled his worry, though. She’d refused to remove her shirt entirely, and Reyes knew it wasn’t about modesty.

After another few minutes of silence, Ryder sniffled and said, “It was bad, Reyes. Really -” her voice broke, and she cleared her throat, sniffling again and shuddering as she obviously tried to hold back tears. “Really bad. I just want to be home and cuddle and forget everything for a night, but I don't even know if that's possible because…”

She trailed off as they pulled up to his flat. “Go inside,” he told her gently. “I'll get your prescription and then we'll talk if you want, okay? Or just cuddle.” Ryder nodded, a relieved look on her face as she leaned over to kiss him before they both got out. Fortunately, a twenty-four-hour pharmacy was just around the corner.

“And, Ryder,” he added as she reached the door. “No alcohol. It'll mess with the medication, and it won't help with whatever you see when you close your eyes. Trust me.” Slumping with disappointment, Ryder nodded and went inside.

Reyes fidgeted while waiting for the medicine to be filled, wanting to get home. That slump when he’d told Ryder no alcohol worried him. She’d seen something, or done something, and it had been bad if she had been hoping to wash it away with whiskey. He rushed back as soon as the prescription was filled, hoping she’d heeded his advice.

Ryder was curled on a ball on the couch when he walked in, shivering under the throw blanket with a shiny face. She’d obviously had a cry while he was sorting out her medication, probably trying to sneak it in and avoid showing him tears. 

“ _Ay, mi amor_ ,” he said softly, kneeling to kiss her cheeks and set the medication on the table before shrugging out of his coat and throwing it over the back of the couch. He'd put it away properly when she was asleep.

He started to move to the other end of the couch to give her space, but her hand snaked out from under the blanket and caught his trouser leg, tugging him back. Ryder sat up, sad turquoise eyes imploring him to sit there, and climbed into his lap when he did. Her arms slid around his neck and she hid her face on his shoulder. Reyes hugged her, loosening his embrace when she flinched. _Bruises?_ She had mentioned the vest, after all, and had been hiding her torso. _Was she shot?_

Kissing her neck and settling his hands loosely at her hips, Reyes pushed aside his rage at the idea of anyone hurting her and asked if she wanted to talk. Ryder nodded, but didn’t say anything. Her breath was hot against his chest as she started to, then huffed out. 

“It’s hard the first time,” he offered, trying to help her find a place to start. “It’s all fast, and loud, and the smell stays in your nostrils.” Ryder choked on a stifled sob and nodded once, a quick jerk of the head. His heart twisted in his chest. Would this have happened had he not trained her? 

With a shuddering breath, Ryder found her words. “I didn’t even want to kill him. They fired first, and I...I shot him. I missed the first time, but I shot him. There was so much fucking blood.” Her arms tightened. “It was more than one. And then there were the...the fucking I don’t know what. There were decontamination chambers, Reyes. They dragged a captive out and stabbed him with syringes and the _screaming_ …” 

Reyes swallowed hard, feeling sick for what she’d witnessed. His black market contacts had mentioned an uptick in organs and other body parts hitting the street, and he’d had his suspicions, but it now seemed more than likely that the Kett were behind the newly-brisk trade. 

“They’re experimenting on them. Like fucking animals, or worse, I don’t know. I spent the entire nine hours of the drive back listening to what SAM found in the records I stole. I’ll get you a copy, by the way,” she offered. He hadn’t planned on asking, not yet, but she knew he’d want the information and somehow kept his wants in mind despite her own distress. Kissing her neck again, Reyes thanked her and asked what SAM had found. 

Smudging a fist through the fresh tears on her cheeks, Ryder snarled, “Illegal, experimental gene therapy and manipulation. Not to help anyone. They’re trying to create fucking superhumans.” She pulled back to look at him, eyes haunted. “They’re a cult. The majority of the Kett are just basic humans. Kidnapping, murdering, evil scum, but human. They pick the promising ones, the ones most indoctrinated by the cult’s ideology, for what they call ‘exaltation’. Those get injected with something intended to make them bigger or faster or stronger, something, I dunno. But the treatment doesn’t work most of the time.” 

She shuddered and hid against his shoulder again. “The Kett we saw there...they all had these open sores, or bone spurs, or growths where the gene therapy was acting more like cancer. They’ve started using the kidnapped refugees to test new versions of the therapy instead of forcing them all into slavery.” Her voice quieted to a whisper. “SAM says there’s a ninety-nine percent failure rate on the...test subjects. Those who survive are killed and...harvested.” 

It was worse than either of them had imagined, and there was nothing Reyes could do just now but hold Ryder. Finally, the floodgates opened and his shirt dampened as she stopped trying to hold everything in. “Shh sh sh, you’re okay, you’re safe here,” he murmured, rocking her slightly. 

“I blew them all up!” she exclaimed between sobs. Reyes frowned, wondering who she’d blown up, how and why. He hadn’t trained her in explosives. 

He started to ask when she started hyperventilating. “I should have died!” she burst out, sobbing harder and gasping for breath. Reyes grunted, thinking that more than a little extreme. “For killing someone?” None of this was making sense. 

Ryder jerked away from him, pulling roughly out of his arms and still struggling to catch her breath. He blinked in confusion. Had he said something wrong? 

No, she was going for her duffel bag she’d brought in with her, yanking out the bulletproof vest he’d insisted she take and holding it aloft. 

A vest now adorned with five slugs in the back and three in the front. 

“I. Should. Have. Died,” she said in a low, guttural voice, biting off each word between sharp breaths. Reyes felt the blood drain from his face as words fled and his conversation with Kian came back to him. 

_I don't know whether to be impressed that you've grown up a little, or terrified that you'll get the lass killed._

_I won’t get her killed, I’m giving her the tools to keep herself safe._

“I shouldn’t have given you the training,” he said, burying his face in his hands and shuddering as a wave of nausea hit him. He’d nearly lost her, and not once, but _eight_ times. Nine, counting the graze on her shoulder. Somehow, none of those shots had hit her in the leg or arm, or worse, in the head. His arrogance and presumptuousness in thinking he could dictate the terms of the situation had nearly cost him the love of his life - and that was, he realised, exactly how he felt about her. His head spun with too many dizzying thoughts and morbid might-have-beens. 

The vest thudded as it hit the floor and quick footsteps returned to him, stomping on the hardwood. “Don’t do that,” she snapped. Reyes looked up to see anguish turned to anger, her red-rimmed turquoise eyes hard as stones. “Don’t you _dare_ blame yourself. I'd be _dead_ without you. _I_ wanted to find out what was happening to the refugees and who this fuckhead Archon is. _I_ brought this on myself. _I_ own this.” 

The anger vanished under a wave of horror, and she sank to her knees, burying her face in his lap and shaking with another sob. “I own this,” she gasped, muffled against his thighs. “All those people…”

Reyes let her cry, stroking her hair as he lost himself in his own thoughts. Had he made the situation better or worse? He supposed it didn’t matter; it was done now, and they could only move forward. And what was all this about “all those people”? 

When Ryder wound down and started breathing more regularly, he asked what she needed, not wanting to offer food directly but hoping she’d eat. She turned her head to the side so that he was looking down at her in profile while she considered it. Her face was puffy from crying and flushed with the exertion and the low fever, but he found her all the more beautiful for being so vulnerable. For a woman who would rather run away than show him anger, trusting him with her tears felt like a confirmation of what they had together. 

“I don’t want to eat, but I probably should,” she mumbled after a minute’s thought. Relieved, Reyes tempted her with the nasty frozen popcorn shrimp she adored, smiling slightly when she sat up. “You bought the popcorn shrimp? The good ones? From the American food store?” He kissed her on the crown of her head. 

“Yes. And there’s ketchup for it. I figured you’d be back late and in need of junk food.” He wouldn't touch the things even if he was starving, but her tremulous smile made his heart skip. “ _Te amo_ ,” he whispered, overwhelmed by the look on her face. Kissing her again, he stood and edged around her to head for the kitchen. 

Ryder followed, apparently not wanting to be alone, and he grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and a glass from the cupboard. “Take your medicine. Put this on the bruises.” She stared at him as though wondering how he'd figured out her other injuries. “That many shots into a bulletproof vest, and you not wanting to show your torso? You’re black and blue, _amor_ , and we both know it.” 

With a guilty wince, Ryder took both items, filled the glass with water, and darted back to the living room for the pill bottle. 

Tearing open the thin paper bag it had come in, she made a disgusted noise and admitted he’d been right about combining it with alcohol. He shrugged and nodded as he spread the breaded, frozen shrimp on a tray and turned the oven on. She’d probably learn soon enough that he was right about it not washing away the nightmares, too. 

A couple hours later the comedy Ryder had put on to distract herself ended, and she was asleep with her head in Reyes’ lap, stuffed full of the little cardboard-like shrimp drowned in ketchup and chased with sparkling apple juice. Reyes would wake her to go upstairs in a minute, but for the moment he just watched her, hoping he could do enough to keep her safe - or if not safe, at least alive. 

Tomorrow, though, he needed to find out what the fuck had happened. He’d set aside his concern and anger to attend to the immediate need of supporting and comforting Ryder but with that accomplished, he allowed a chill to seep back into him. 

Bringing Anubis out of retirement while keeping Collective Industries running would be a challenge, but nobody shot his woman and got away with it. 


	9. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes fights his demons while Ryder recovers from her trip up north.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so grateful to masulevin, Nemain, and queenofkadara for your regular comments! <3

Unsurprisingly, Ryder had insisted on keeping her brunch date with Mara the next morning. She'd slept poorly after Reyes had roused her to go up to bed, not wanting to carry her for fear of putting too much pressure on her bruises. Her tossing and turning, whimpered cries, and unconscious tears had stoked the simmering rage in Reyes’ heart as he lay awake beside her, the fingers of one hand twined in hers.

He'd wanted to forbid her the outing. She needed to rest and recover, and the dark circles under her eyes spoke to her exhaustion. But if he had, not only would she have gone anyway, she'd have been angry with him for trying to control her. That, and he had no interest in creating a dependence on himself as her sole source of support, knowing it would spell disaster for both of them. So he bit his tongue, trying to contain Anubis’ silent disapproval at the way she was pushing herself. 

As ever, Ryder had read him anyway. She winced her way into her coat before going up on tiptoes to quickly press her lips to his. “I need normal more than rest right now. She'll take one look at me, scold me like the loving mother hen she is, and send me home early, so don't worry. I won't overdo it. And I won’t drink.” He'd caught her face in both hands and kissed her deeply, allowing himself the possessive gesture in lieu of trying to keep her home. Her right hand clutched at his shoulder and a small, surprised noise escaped her.

“Come back in one piece,” Reyes had growled when he released her, pleased with her shortness of breath and the slight waver in her knees. He was used to the effect he had on both women and men, but Ryder seemed unusually susceptible to his charms. Little moments like this reminded them both of that fact, and he felt no shame in taking advantage of them. 

She'd swallowed, turquoise eyes wide as her tongue flashed pink along her reddened lips. “I will. Soon.”

Now Anubis was on his way to Tartarus to meet Drack and figure out what in the hell had happened. The old mercenary had beat him there and was lounging against the wall near the door, nursing a bottle of beer despite the morning hour. Anubis jerked his head sharply toward the private room, shutting the door behind them more firmly them was strictly necessary.

“Someone's in a mood,” Drack rumbled, taking another swig of his beer and leaning back against a table. Glaring, Anubis snapped, “Sit.”

The other man made no move to do so. “Your tantrums don't scare me, little hitman. I was killing people back when you were still figuring out that tits are full of milk, so stow the attitude.” Taking another swallow of beer, Drack said, “This is about Ryder, isn't it.” 

A memory of the times they’d worked together previously flashed through Anubis’ mind; Drack had always been impervious to attempts to manage or manipulate him. Insisting on being seated would make him lose face when the mercenary refused again, so Anubis mimicked the old mercenary’s lounge against the other table, arms folded. “What happened in Scotland?” he asked flatly.

Drack rolled his big shoulders, cracked his neck, and grinned. “A good fight. The little one can handle herself, although she doesn't know it yet. Good potential there, even if I questioned her judgment getting involved with a dodgy charmer like you at the beginning. What did she tell you?” 

Assuming “the little one” was Ryder and not Peebee, Anubis ignored the jab at himself and the comment about Ryder's judgment, focusing on recounting her words from the previous night. “What did she mean ‘all those people’? She's not a bad shot but I doubt she killed that many.”

With a wince, Drack finished his bottle and set it aside, looking around as if hoping for something more. Anubis took the hint and went to a minifridge between the room’s two couches to grab another beer. “Good man,” Drack said, accepting it. Cracking it open, he explained. “She had to make a call.” 

He took a sip of the drink, and Anubis ground his teeth, choking on his unusual impatience. The sly glint in the old man's eye said he was enjoying having the power of information enough as it was. “She could leave the facility standing, and allow the Kett the opportunity to continue whatever fucked up experiments they were running to save the current captives. Or destroy it, and take responsibility for killing everyone left behind, but prevent more being brought in behind us.”

Despite the distance his thoughts were wrapped in, Anubis felt his stomach drop and clench. It took every ounce of self-control to keep his face neutral. Choose to become a mass murderer, or save who you could and run away, knowing that you could have stopped future innocents from facing a gruesome fate. 

He may have been a hitman, but even Anubis had a code. No innocent deaths. But in a situation like that, did you choose the innocents in front of you, or the ones surely coming down the road? He didn't know if he'd have had the courage to take on that kind of responsibility, and probably would have called the job done when the target was recovered, leaving the captives to their fate. 

No wonder Ryder had broken down into tears in his lap.

Drack took in his lack of expression, muttering, “Cold bastard,” before continuing. “She marched off in the middle of the argument about what to do, used that AI of hers to hack some system, and overloaded every generator in the place. We barely made it back to the vehicles before the whole place went up like Bonfire Night. Seems like half the mountainside went down in an avalanche, with her driving like a madwoman in that beast of a truck you gave her.” A swig of beer. “Good choice, by the way. We probably wouldn't have made it in anything else.”

Anubis pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache blooming at this new information. An explosion that caused an avalanche? “Can anyone tie her, or any of you, to the explosion? Why haven't I seen anything about this on the news?”

Shrugging, Drack said, “That's why we were late getting out of town. As soon as Ryder got the info she was after from that Moshae woman, she dove into her computer to eliminate pretty much any trace of evidence showing the Nomad going near the Cairngorms or us in Edinburgh. Neat little job, smashed through a whole bunch of security. She said she made it look like someone else after something else, although the coincidence of it all will probably be suspicious.”

“So they're embarrassed, with no evidence, and are embargoing the information?” Anubis asked.

“Probably. Might also have to do with Ryder dropping a virus in the systems controlling the news websites and broadcast towers as well.” Drack’s toothy grin had the shine of paternal pride. “Talented kid.” The grin sharpened to something far less pleasant, more a baring of teeth than a smile. “Clever of you to get your hands on her. Break her heart and I break your neck. Kid’s like a niece to me. I knew her dad, and it's not an accident that I live down the hall, even if she doesn't know that.”

Anubis felt himself go still for a second too long but tried to play it off anyway. “What makes you think I have anything to do with her heart? She’s my Director of Cybersecurity.”

Drack's scowl promised a great deal of unpleasantness. “Don't try to fuck with me, brat. I remember who you were when you got into the murder game, and I remember who you were when you left it. The job got done and that should have been enough for you even if you were only fucking her, but you called me up here like the naughty boy at school.”

“And you came, to see if I'd show my hand.” There was no use dissembling. Besides, the old man had provided him a few nuggets of information he hadn't had before...and which he doubted Ryder had, either. 

Nodding, Drack finished the second beer and spread his massive arms. “So. We gonna have a problem, runt?”

“Not as long as you quit with the nicknames,” Anubis snarled. “I'll take care of her.”

Drack shrugged again and thoughtfully rubbed a hand over his short-cropped, salt-and-pepper hair. “You'll try, maybe. She's headstrong and wild, always has been. 'S why I'm watching her and not that prig of a twin brother of hers. But you seem to manage her better than most, so I won't hold it against you if she gets hurt.” The toothy grin came back and the older man clapped Anubis on the shoulder. “We done here? I got guns to clean and ammo to restock.”

Anubis stood from his lean against the table and walked with Drack to the door. “Let me provide the ammo. First order on the house, the rest at a discount.” It was a blatant attempt to bribe his way into the old man's good graces, but if he considered himself like family to Ryder, Anubis wouldn’t hesitate to try. It wasn't like it would work with the aforementioned prig of a twin brother, after all.

Drack's heavy _heh heh heh_ of laughter made Anubis think he'd decline, but he didn't. “Generous of you. Sure, whaddya got for shotguns and semi-automatic pistols?” 

They talked guns and ammunition the rest of the way to the door, shaking hands on a deal for one of Reyes’ new shotguns and a pickup time at Tartarus next week. Once the merc was gone, Anubis stalked down to the main bar, where Kian waited with arms crossed. “Been awhile since I've seen that old bastard in here,” the barman observed with a wary expression. “You getting back into the game, then?”

Anubis leaned sideways against the bar, knocking on it absently. “I might be.” His warning look halted whatever Kian was about to say, and the other man's jaw snapped shut with an audible click. “Ryder was hurt. These Kett were a pain in the ass before, but now it's personal. They need to bleed.”

Kian sighed, then started to unload the dishwasher, glasses clattering against each other as the barman slammed the door open in a temper. “God damn it, Reyes, I _knew_ this was going to happen. Is she alright?”

Sliding onto a bar stool, Anubis recounted Ryder's story. Midway through, Kian stopped loading wine glasses onto the overhead rack and stared, mouth slightly agape. 

“This is bad, mate,” the bartender muttered from behind his hands as he scrubbed then over his face. “Worse than I'd thought from the rumours I've been hearing lately. I take back what I was going to say before you put your grouchy face on. They have to be stopped.” He dropped his hands, looking a bit green. Kian had never done well with blood or doctors, and the things Ryder had seen were enough to give anyone nightmares. “Just be careful, okay? Let her take the lead on it, and fucking _listen_ if she says to rein things in.”

They'd been friends long enough that Anubis knew “things” meant his tendency to utterly destroy anyone who presented an obstacle - often by killing them.

As he had with Sloane and Zia.

“Fair enough,” Anubis agreed, then snorted a laugh, shaking his head. Kian arched an eyebrow, asking what was funny.

“Me. With a steady girlfriend. Who not only knows what I am but is also both my emergency brake and my protegée.”

Kian grinned, seeing the humor in the situation. “And here you thought you'd die alone in an alley somewhere, having done nothing with your life.”

The memory of that drunken conversation, one of many that ultimately had led to Anubis’ career change, sobered him. 

“Yeah,” Reyes muttered, shivering as he slipped back to himself. Those had been bad times.

Kian squeezed his shoulder. “It'll be okay. You pulled yourself back once; you can do it again. Especially now that you've got more to live for, hey? And Ryder helping you find a balance?” A teasing look flashed over the Irishman's face; he was never serious for long. “Speaking of living, and Ryder...Keema says the lass is living with you?”

Rolling his eyes, Reyes sighed, “Fucking - she is _practically_ living with me.”

“Close enough. Why not make the jump?”

Reyes traced invisible circles on the bar, not wanting to answer but knowing his two closest friends would concoct some kind of plan if he didn't. “You know this time of year is difficult for me,” he finally ground out. “I need to see how things go. See if I can manage not to scare her away.”

Kian's grin slipped. “I'm sorry, mate,” he said sincerely. “If you need anything…”

Rising, Reyes headed for the stairs, head down and hands shoved in his jeans pockets. “I'll let you know,” he replied without turning around.

He hated this time of year, and he'd never had to hide it from someone staying in his house before. _This is going to be interesting_.

***

To Reyes’ surprise, Ryder was already home by the time he made it back. She was lounging against a pillow propped on the arm of the couch with her laptop, tapping away.

“Told you I wouldn't be long,” she teased with a cheeky grin that didn't quite hide the pain lurking in the depths of her eyes. He crossed the room and bent over to kiss her forehead, wishing he could take the burden of her choice onto himself.

“You know,” she said softly. “About the facility. Drack?”

“Yes and yes,” he admitted. “I shouldn't have gone behind your back, but I was worried.”

Ryder shrugged, avoiding his eyes. “Kind of glad I didn't have to tell you about murdering dozens of innocent people.” Her voice was barely audible over the sudden whirr of the laptop's cooling fan kicking on, and a single tear was angrily wiped away.

“Hey,” he said, lifting her chin and waiting for her eyes to rise as well. “You made the hard choice for the right reasons. You got the intel you needed, got your team out, and made it home. Now leave it behind you, and figure out your next move.” He held her gaze until she nodded. It was unconvincing, but maybe Ryder would think on what he'd said.

Settling on the other end of the couch, Reyes pulled her feet into his lap and started massaging one of them. “Oooooh, that's good,” Ryder groaned, slumping back and closing her eyes.

“What are you working on?” he asked. 

Her voice was slightly slurred when she replied. “Trying to hack the biometrics programming for your weapons. I needed to look at a fresh problem to take my mind off...everything.”

Reyes’ pleased smile went unseen by Ryder. This was one of the uses he'd hoped to put her to back when he was still trying to win her for Collective. The programming was good, but he was certain she was better. Having her considerable skills applied to something that would make him a great deal of money boosted his mood from the maudlin thoughts of past pain that had gnawed at him all the way home from Tartarus.

“I’d be interested to see a report when you’re finished,” he purred. Ryder groaned again. “Keep doing that and you can have whatever you want.” 

_Whatever I want?_ Reyes was inclined to take her at her word. “I’ll make you a deal,” he offered in his most seductive dealing-with-clients tone. Ryder’s eyes flashed open, then narrowed. “I’ve learned it’s not wise to make deals with the devil, but I’m listening.”

Reyes couldn’t help his grin. Betting and dealmaking were weaknesses they shared, but Ryder hadn’t been willing to play against him since she’d lost a bet and he’d made her wear a remote-controlled vibrating egg to a business lunch. “Take the next two weeks off from the Initiative, or tell them you’re working from home. Stay home from Collective as well.”

Ryder snorted cynically. “Not that I particularly enjoy going to work at the Initiative, but what do I get for abdicating my responsibilities? Tann’s a right cunt whenever I ask for time off.”

“Aside from incredible foot massages?” Reyes considered for a moment. Sex was out of the question - he had no interest in tearing the stitches in her shoulder - and what he really wanted was for her to rest, flat on her back, for at least a week. “A favour of your choosing, and my services as an information broker for free for any Kett-related queries.” 

A dangerous glint shone in Ryder’s eyes. “You drive a hard bargain, _Señor_ Vidal,” she murmured, giving his name the proper Spanish inflections. “Two favours. I’ll pay for information with an exchange of services.”

The last time she’d paid in services rendered, he’d quite enjoyed breaking her on the sybian. On the other hand, the last time she’d cashed in a favour she’d walked away with a fifteen percent stake in Collective Industries, a directorship, and free rein to do as she pleased at his company. It was working out for him so far, but it had been a steep price to pay. 

Still...his black market network was considerable even with his reduced activity as Anubis. If he was getting back in the game, he could provide a substantial amount of information. He’d give it to her anyway, out of love, but getting something for it was always preferable. What more could she really ask for, anyway? 

“Done,” he agreed. “But you’ll pay dearly for that information.” 

Her smile had an edge to it. “I hadn’t expected anything less. The first favour -”

Reyes felt his expression go slack and his hands stilled in their massage. “Wait, you already have your favours?” Had she played him _again_?

The Cheshire Cat grin spreading on her face suggested she had, and she wiggled her foot to remind him to get on with the massage. “The first favour,” she continued, as if he hadn’t spoken, “is for you to accompany me to the Southbank Christmas Market. I haven’t been since I was a kid, Mara has plans, and Scott is a fucking bore to go with.”

_Fuck_. Exactly what he didn’t like doing at this time of year - leaving the house to be surrounded by people and festive noise. “And the second favour?” he asked, switching to her other foot. 

Flexing her newly-freed toes, Ryder leaned back against the pillow again. “We go to Kian’s holiday party at Tartarus.”

“How the fuck - he called you.” Reyes answered his own question as Ryder’s smirk grew, eyes still closed. “He called you this morning, didn’t he, the _pendejo_. How the fuck did he even get your number?”

“He did indeed call me,” Ryder purred in a fair approximation of his own tone when he was pleased with himself. _She's been spending too much time with me_.

Kian held a holiday party for his employees every year, on the Sunday closest to Christmas, shutting down the bar to outsiders and only allowing staff, their partners, and certain invited guests to revel in total freedom. The bar and VIP rooms were all open, and from Kian's stories, the event was generally a debauch. The man had been trying to get him to come for years, and Reyes had always declined, preferring to bury himself in work.

Sighing, Reyes admitted, “Well played, _pajarillo_. A deal is a deal.” 

Ryder squealed happily, clapping her hands together. “You’re the best!” she exclaimed as if she hadn’t just maneuvered him into both events. 

_My little bird_ , he mused to himself. _Relatively innocent, but dangerously clever_. Reyes sighed as he felt the dizzying sensation of falling in love with her all over again, the only person who could outplay him so easily. 

###

Ryder _hated_ being stuck at home. 

By the end of the week, the graze on her shoulder itched more than ached and the dissolvable stitches started breaking down. The bruises from where the vest had taken bullet impacts hurt more, fading to an ugly yellow-green that sat sickeningly on her skin. 

Secretly, she was glad Reyes had given her an excuse to laze around at his place. The trip to Scotland had taken a toll on her, and while she didn’t have nightmares every night, her mind would turn to the unknown people who had died at the facility if she didn’t stay occupied and she frequently woke with a general sense of malaise. 

Mostly, she tried not to think about it. Reyes was right. She’d made her choice based on what she thought was right, and she had to move on. 

Somehow. 

Reyes’ nightmares were infrequent, but she’d been awakened by enough of them to know that there was no forgetting what a person had seen or done without escaping into...someone else. Someone like Anubis. She couldn’t imagine something awful enough to give _him_ restless sleep, and she didn’t want to. This hell was enough, even with Reyes’ arms wrapped tightly around her when she awoke crying. 

Ryder had called in sick from the Initiative, claiming a severe sinus infection acquired during her holiday, and spent the week hacking everything she could access at Collective Industries. Reyes scowled at some of her reports, but she knew he’d rather know his weaknesses than ignore them. It was one of the things she loved about him. 

All that aside, the spirit of her deal with Reyes was that she rest. With anyone else, she’d have taken the piss and only held to the letter of the deal - that she stay home - but she’d known his intention was for her to recover. She also knew him well enough to know that in his mind that meant laying down and letting him play nursemaid, so that’s what she did, as much as it grated. Breakfast in bed was barely enough to offset the jittery, cranky feeling of so much excess energy.

It wasn’t just her own demons that needed dealing with, either. Reyes’ mood became increasingly volatile as the week went on. He slipped into the distant coolness of Anubis more frequently and without any reason that Ryder could determine, and grew more snappish than usual if she picked at her bandage or spent too much time on her feet. Everything had to be extra tidy and precisely in its place, no dirty clothes or tea mugs left about, and he started drinking earlier in the day. Whiskey, not wine, despite the fact that he disappeared into his home office for long stretches to work. 

If Kian hadn’t warned her that he got like this every year in the weeks before and after Christmas, Ryder either would have been seriously concerned, or she would have gotten fed up, picked a fight, and gone back to stay at her own flat. Reyes had become intolerable.

Ryder had been confused when her phone had rung and the ID showed her Kian’s number. She’d given it to him the night they got drunk together, in case he ever needed to reach her about Reyes, but he’d never used it until now. 

“He won’t talk to anyone for the last two weeks of the year, duck,” the Irishman had said. “Closes the office, hides away, drinks too much...it’s not you, or me, or anybody. It’s just whatever demons drove him to become who he is, and for whatever reason this is when they bite him hardest. Remember that, and try to get him out of the house, hey? We have a holiday party here at Tartarus on Christmas Day, see if you can get him to come to that. Keema will be there, too.”

It hadn’t been a guess that Reyes had spoken to Drack about Scotland. Kian’s call had been motivated out of concern about the implications of the mercenary appearing in his bar after so many years and spilled the beans. 

_It’s a good thing he did_ , Ryder thought, frowning at Reyes’ back as he headed for his cave again after snarling viciously about a minor error on the part of the postman. Because this is a fucking shitshow. _What the hell happened to him that he’s like this?_

Asking was out of the question. Reyes had his secrets, and digging for them would only drive him away. Cooking for her and tending to her bandage and bruises were the only times he mellowed out, so she ground her teeth and held her tongue despite growing tired of being treated like an invalid. If being a control freak comforted him, she’d tolerate it and kiss him when he was finished. 

The kiss always made him blink in confusion, which was amusing even if nothing else was. It also brought a measure of Reyes back to the hard lines his face edged into when he was Anubis, which was reassuring. He wasn’t completely lost, just overwhelmed by whatever was going on in his head.

Between handling Anubis and hacking Collective Industries, Ryder managed to bundle her own nightmares into a box and shove them aside for the time being. SAM continued to analyse the data from the Kett facility while attempting to tie it to the information she’d gained from Moshae Sjefa, so her hunt from the Archon progressed without needing her direct attention. For now, she could focus on herself and her lover. 

The day at the Christmas Market passed relatively uneventfully. Reyes had spent most of it as Anubis, clearly uneasy with the location and general atmosphere, before easing up and playing a prank on her with cold hands dampened by snow. She’d screeched so loudly that the entire market had come to a pause before laughing at her and carrying on again. It had been infuriating, but it had also been the first time he’d relaxed since she got home from Scotland, so Ryder had let it go with the bribe of a German sausage. 

It was better than him looking for a reason to make use of the gun she’d felt at the small of his back and ignored.

They made a stop at her place after they left so that Ryder could pick up the blue dress she’d worn to Sloane’s party for Kian’s party the next day. Drack was leaning against the outside wall smoking a cigarette, and Ryder didn’t miss the nod the two men exchanged after she passed with a friendly wave. _What’s that all about?_ The feeling that something more than a report on Scotland had passed between the two men was intensified with the possessive hand Reyes laid at the small of her back as she unlocked the building’s main door. 

_More secrets_ , Ryder thought, sighing as the faulty door lock finally admitted them. As with everything else this week, there was no point in asking Reyes what was going on. He’d evade or outright refuse to answer, and if it wasn’t important enough for it to fall under his promise to tell her about “big stuff,” it wasn’t important enough to argue over. For what felt like the hundredth time that week, Ryder decided to trust him and let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few events mentioned in this chapter were covered in the Give and Take one-shots:  
> \- [Anubis](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12297894/chapters/28141248) (Reyes deciding to get out of being a hitman)  
> \- [Business Lunch](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12297894/chapters/28124223) (vibrating egg)  
> \- [In Vino Veritas](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12297894/chapters/27956076) (Ryder and Kian getting drunk)  
> \- [Cold Hands](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12297894/chapters/29120976) (Christmas Market)


	10. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder and Reyes make an appearance at Kian's holiday party and matters come to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for a wild party, brief mention of abuse/painful memories in Reyes' past, and a little smut.

“Reyes? Reyes!” 

Ryder turned to Keema's voice as it rang out in disbelief, Reyes slowing at her side. They were approaching the door to Tartarus, and the statuesque woman stood outside puffing on a cigarillo that she ground out beneath her stiletto-shod toe. She looked stunning, as usual, in a gold sequined dress with a high slit on each leg and her goddess braids coiled in a crown. 

Leaning back from the kiss she'd planted on Reyes’ cheek, she added, “And Ryder! I haven't seen you in ages, darling, you must tell me what happened to send you up north. You missed our lunch.” She pulled Ryder in for a hug. “I can't believe you got him out!” she hissed. Ryder shrugged, not sure this was the best idea but at her wit’s end with being cooped up at home with an inexplicably moody and obsessively tidy boyfriend.

“I'll explain later,” she murmured back, glancing at Reyes. He was himself, if barely, but it had taken two glasses of whiskey and a blowjob. Today had been the worst yet in his…whatever this was...and Ryder had made herself scarce most of the day, but she was getting tired of it. He’d rebuffed her attempts to talk earlier, saying he was fine, which he clearly was not. 

Keema's brow dimpled with a nearly imperceptible frown as both women took in his hard golden eyes and the faint smile that came nowhere near reaching them. “Well, come in then. Kian will be glad you've finally accepted his invitation,” Keema teased as she steered Ryder inside. Reyes followed, grumbling that the bartender had better have some good whiskey. 

Inside, the party was in full swing. Red and green lights flashed and spotlights rotated between each of the poles and stages, all of which were currently in use by dancers. Garish decorations in silver and gold hung from rafters and twined around support pillars, torn down in a few places where couples had pushed against them to make out. The scent of alcohol and sweat hung in the air, mixing with perfume or cologne as they passed a few people who had overdone it.

Kian was behind the bar in a Santa hat and not much else, looking as though he’d been freer than usual in sampling his own wares, and Ryder reminded herself not to stare at the small rings in his nipples. She somehow hadn’t expected the man to be as chiseled as one of his dancers, and briefly wondered if he ever took the stage.

With the general state of undress at the party, Ryder suddenly felt overdressed in her blue knee-length dress, although Reyes fit right in with those men still dressed, wearing his usual uniform of jeans, black leather shoes, and a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and an extra button undone. 

Several of the other revelers were also down to pants and bras, and some even less than that. Ryder stared at it all, suddenly understanding why Kian closed the bar to everyone but his staff and their special guests. Even Reyes seemed slightly taken aback, although that might have been the chaotic wash of thumping bass and flashing neon lights, even louder and more frantic than usual.

Keema glanced back as she started to descend to the bar and laughed. “Come, my dears. This is just the beginning.” 

***

Two whiskeys later, Ryder had convinced Keema to relax a little and dance with her. Reyes was in too much of a mood to leave his stool and Ryder wasn’t going to let him spoil the evening. 

It wasn’t Ryder’s first visit to Tartarus; she’d seen it at peak hours before, with scantily-clothed dancers and drunk patrons. This evening was something else entirely, a whole new level of bacchanalian frenzy that only escalated as the night drew on. Despite that, everyone seemed to be having a good time. No fights had broken out, and everyone seemed to be respecting Kian’s one house rule for the evening: everything is permitted, as long as you ask permission if it involves another party. 

As she and Keema laughed and moved to the thump of the bass, Ryder felt a hand settle on her ass and squeeze. Keema stiffened at the same time, and they turned to find an obviously intoxicated man trying to gather them both in. “Hey!” Ryder shouted, slapping him as Keema swore and threw her drink in his face. 

“The fuck, you crazy bitches!” Ryder backed up as the man’s face abruptly shifted from what he must have thought was a charming smile to a snarl. 

Almost before the words were out of his mouth, Reyes slid in front of the two women, putting himself between them and the drunk, who grinned lopsidedly at Reyes. “You got a problem, mate? No need to get tough, we can share them.”

Ryder almost missed Reyes’ cold words under Keema’s outraged scoff. “We’re not sharing them. You’re leaving.”

“What, are they yours or something?” 

Reyes cocked his head to the side, a gesture she only saw him make when he’d given himself over to Anubis and was attempting to reason with an unreasonable person before doing something violent. “Doesn’t matter. They didn’t want your attention and you didn’t ask. Get out.” 

Movement in Ryder’s peripheral vision turned out to be Kian, the small but hefty-looking cudgel he tapped against his bare leg giving him a menacing air despite the silly hat and small red hot pants he wore. “This is my bar, and we don’t do that shit here. Get the fuck out, and don’t come back.” 

With a dirty glare the man fisted his hands, then thought better of starting a fight after a glance between Reyes and Kian and pushed his way toward the stairs. Angry shouts rang out after him as he interrupted dancing or embracing couples and groups. Kian pulled one of his other bartenders aside, and as Ryder snatched her whiskey from the bar she heard him tell the woman to find out who the wanker had come with.

“Sorry about that, lass,” Kian apologised, glancing at Ryder and then over her shoulder. “Shit.”

Ryder turned, not seeing anything. “What?” she asked, trying to see where he was looking. The bartender’s eyes flicked between the stairs and the upper level, where the handsy jerk was almost to the door. Easing almost imperceptibly through the crowd behind him…

“What is he doing?” Keema asked worriedly as she spotted Reyes as well. 

“He’s going to kill the fucker, or hurt him so badly he’ll wish he was dead,” Ryder said breathlessly, remembering how Anubis had reacted when Spender had made a grab for her at the benefit dinner a few months ago. She kicked off her shoes so she could move more quickly and headed after him. 

For once, Ryder was glad of her small size. It made it easier to slip through the crowd and dart up the stairs after Anubis. Her bare feet stuck on spilled alcohol, but she’d clean them off later. Whatever he had in mind was not going to be good. 

She caught up as his prey stumbled out into the night, stepping quickly in front of him with a hand on his chest. “Where ya going, Reyes?” she asked lightly, careful not to use his alias where other ears could hear. 

He stopped, but his gaze stayed focused over her shoulder. “Just making sure that _coño_ leaves.”

_The fuck you were_ , Ryder thought angrily. “Well, he’s gone now. Let’s go back to the party.”

Reyes’ attention was still behind her, outside the darkened glass and on the street brightly lit by the pink and blue neon signs flashing in the bar’s windows. “I’ll be down in a minute,” he murmured, shifting as if he wanted to step around her. 

After a week of his bullshit, this was the last straw. “Come with me,” she snapped, shoving past him toward the private room. When he made no move to follow, she said, “Reyes, come with me, please. We’re going to have a chat, or so help me, I’ll move all of my shit out of your flat by the end of the day tomorrow. I will _leave_.”

That caught his attention. “What?” he asked, tilting his head to the side to regard her blankly. “Why?” 

“Did you lie to me just now? Were you really only going to check that that guy left?”

A muscle in his cheek twitched, a tic so minor that most people probably would have missed it, and his posture stiffened slightly. Ryder watched him try to decide how to answer and knew when he’d settled on a lie. “Fuck it, I’m leaving now.” She headed for the stairs, annoyed that she’d left her shoes and purse behind the bar. 

Reyes’ hand encircled her arm and pulled her back, cat-quick and strong. She yanked free, and he let her go. “Yes,” he admitted, allowing it and not trying again. “I lied.”

Ryder sighed and closed her eyes. “This is ‘big stuff’, Reyes,” she told him without opening them. _He promised_. “We had an agreement that you weren’t going to lie to me about ‘big stuff’. I remember what you said after Spender tried the same shit as that fucker. Can you look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t have the same thought in mind?” 

The memory of the evening they’d gone to the charity dinner flashed through her mind as he didn’t answer. 

_“You were ready to kill him, weren't you,” Ryder asked quietly. The courtyard was dark and the stones echoed beneath her heels as they passed through to the Strand to catch a taxi. Anubis only looked at her steadily, something dangerously feral swimming behind his gaze._

_“He shouldn't have tried to grab you.”_

“Laz…” Reyes said finally, cautiously. 

She opened her eyes at the thread of anxiety in his voice, trying to remember if she’d ever heard that particular note before. Reyes’ eyes were still hard, but the muscles in his jaw were bunched, his arms were crossed, and he was probably trying not shift his feet. “I don’t -” he broke off and swallowed hard before continuing. “I don’t want you to go.” 

Another non-answer. Too angry to speak, Ryder pointed at the door to the private room. Reyes turned and went to it without hesitation, unlocking the door and locking it again behind them. 

They stared at each other for a full minute before Ryder broke the silence. “I don’t make idle threats,” she said in a low voice. She would not shout, no matter how much she wanted to, no matter how much her heart thundered in her chest at the thought of having to follow through. _Please don’t make me do this_. 

“You can keep your secrets but if I can’t trust you to be honest with me when I ask you something directly, I can’t be with you,” she continued. “You made me a promise, and aside from that, I have too much else to worry about with the Kett.”

Reyes’ teeth ground audibly, and his arms crossed. “Laz, I didn’t -”

“No,” she snapped. “Don’t ‘Laz’ me. I watched you make a choice to lie to me about something that directly affects me. How many people saw you confront that asshole after he groped me? How many witnesses would have been able to talk to the police if he’d turned up battered or dead? Would you have killed all of them?” Ryder clenched her fists to stop them from shaking. 

“How do I make this right?” Reyes whispered after a long silence. He’d released Anubis in his shock at her statement that she’d leave, but the alter-ego was settling over him again, his safety blanket against anything too troublesome. 

Ryder considered him, wondering if giving him a second chance would make her a fool for love once again. _He’s not Xavier_ , she reminded herself. _Who are you really trying to punish?_

Turning to the table, she leaned on it with her head down and both hands gripping the edge. The cool metal was soothing as she wrestled with the question and came to a decision. “I’ll let the lie go this time. _But_. You need help. A therapist, or maybe talk to Kian or Keema, or even Crux or Aquila. Talk to me. Talk to _someone_. Because I don’t think this would have happened if you weren’t so lost in whatever the fuck has been going on in your head for the last week. Maybe whatever it is isn't my business or it’s my fault for insisting you come out, but it isn't like you to make the kind of mistake you almost made. I’m worried about you.” She bit her tongue on the part where she was fucking fed up as well. That was her problem for not speaking up sooner, not his.

Glancing over her shoulder, Ryder caught a fleeting look of panic before it was covered by the blank mask again. “I can’t,” Reyes ground out, and Ryder felt her heart start to break as she went for the door.

“Wait!” Reyes snapped harshly, burying his face in his hands and growling wordlessly. “Wait. I can’t go to a...to someone else. Not with what I’ve done as Anubis, they’d have to report it. And -” he broke off, shuddering, as old anguish flickered over his features. “It hurts. I can't...I can't show this to the others.” 

Ryder’s arms crossed around her belly as she held herself, choking back tears. For him to admit that much was more than she thought she'd get out of him, but if he wasn't willing to work toward some sort of resolution, she couldn't stay. “You can have your pain, or you can have me. Not both,” she told him, forcing the words out around the lump in her throat. “Talk to someone and try to let it go, or let me go, because I can’t just ignore it.” 

His gaze swept over her as if he was reminding himself of everything they had, and Ryder tasted bile in the back of her throat as her stomach churned. She knew that what she was asking him would be difficult and painful, probably for her as well, but if he didn’t at least try she’d be worrying that he’d snap and kill someone or have to sit and watch him suffer every Christmas for the rest of her life. She couldn’t fix him. He had to want to fix himself.

_The rest of her life_. Ryder breathed quickly and shallowly through her mouth as that thought caught up with her, trying to push aside the rising nausea. She hadn’t realised until she was ready to walk out the door how deeply her feelings for him had taken root. 

“Okay,” Reyes whispered. “I’ll try.” 

Ryder exhaled heavily and finally let the tears fall. She’d been strung so tightly with the tension that had built over the course of the week and climaxed here that she sagged back against the door. As she started to slide down to the floor Reyes caught her, bringing her upright and wrapping his arms around her. “ _Lo siento. Lo siento, mi amor_.”

“I just don’t want you to be hurting like this, and I don't want you to get in trouble because of me,” Ryder said to his chest. He squeezed her, then tugged them back to the couch. She started to move away when he sat, trying to give him space, but he pulled her down to straddle his lap and held her there firmly. _Even when he’s the one cornered, he needs to feel like he's in charge. It’s not just about power_ , she realised. _Dominance is safety for him. Power is safety_. The implications made her stomach knot all over again.

“So...I just...talk?” Reyes asked after a few minutes, his silver tongue apparently tied. Ryder shrugged, miserable with the situation and wanting to run. “We don’t have to do this now if you need to think about it first.” 

Reyes stroked a hand up and down her spine. “No. I can't keep doing this. And I'm not losing you.” 

Ryder shifted to get more comfortable, listening to the steady thud of the music outside contrasting with the smaller thud from Reyes’ heart. It was faster than usual, betraying a nervousness she didn’t feel in the movement of his hand. _Always steady hands. Hitman’s hands_. 

“Bad things happen at Christmastime,” he murmured when she’d stilled. After another long pause, he quietly listed each of those things, giving few or no details, occasionally slipping into Spanish and correcting himself irritably. 

His mother had died in a freak accident on Christmas day when he was nine. The beatings his father regularly gave him even before her death had intensified at that time of year as a result, at one point nearly killing him. His older sister, working as a call girl to feed him because their father was frequently too drunk to hold a job, was attacked on her way home after a Christmas Eve party one year and left for dead by neighbours who whispered that she was a whore and damned to hell either way. When he got older, jobs went wrong for no reason he could discern or control. The wrong people died, sometimes. 

“Then you went to Scotland, and I nearly lost you. It’s like a curse. I keep waiting for the next Christmas disaster. I have to stay away from the people who are important to me, or something bad will happen to them, too. But I couldn’t stay away from you, because you were hurt.” He shuddered, squeezing her hard enough to make the nearly-faded bruises around her ribs flare up in pain. 

She gritted her teeth, holding onto the hurt to push back tears. If he’d wanted pity, it wouldn’t have taken this much to drag these fragments out of him. _And I dragged him out of the house and to a party on the anniversary of his mother’s death. Fuck._

When he stopped speaking, Ryder tried to lean back to look at him. His arms tightened, forcing her to stay where she was. “You’re not losing me,” she murmured into his neck. “Thank you for helping me understand. I know nothing will magically make it better but...just talk to me when it gets bad, okay? I’m here for you, and nothing's going to happen to me.” When Reyes didn’t answer, she asked, “Do you want to go now?”

His arms loosened and he nodded, chin bumping against her shoulder. There was more to his story, if only in the details of what he’d shared, but this was a good first step. 

***

Contrary to what he'd said about needing to stay away from the people he cared about, Reyes kept a hand resting on Ryder the entire way home. She hadn’t understood until now how much he feared losing her. Shame at her ultimatum made her skin crawl, and she felt slightly sick. 

She’d meant it, though. She had too much to do with her life to try helping someone who didn’t want to help themselves and her failed engagement had taught her she couldn’t fix or change other people. At the same time, she felt like she’d fed into the one insecurity she’d ever noticed in the man she loved. It rattled her, and she hoped that she hadn’t done Reyes a disservice. 

When they got back to his flat, they took off their shoes, hung up their coats, and looked at each other. Ryder was trying to gauge where they stood now, uncomfortable with the turn the evening had taken and unsure of whether she’d pushed him too far. Reyes, looking more himself than he had in a week and strangely vulnerable with it, appeared to be trying to convince himself that she really was still here. 

Ryder’s chest constricted. “Reyes,” she sighed, closing the small distance between them and resting a hand on his cheek. “I do love you. Never doubt that, okay?”

He took the hand and pressed it to his hips, then cupped the back of her head with his other hand and pulled her closer for a kiss. Relieved, Ryder wrapped her free arm around his neck, willing him to read her body as well now as he had when he’d figured out she was hurt. 

She wasn’t disappointed. Reyes broke the kiss and headed for the stairs, towing her behind him with the hand still in his grip. Once they got to the bedroom he skimmed his fingers up over her hips, to the zipper at the back of her dress, where he hesitated. “I want you,” he breathed against her lips. 

“Good, because I’m yours,” Ryder whispered back, undoing his jeans. She shivered as the zip opened and the straps were pushed off her shoulders, his lips following the warm trail his hands made over her right shoulder. She focused on undoing the buttons on his shirt, sliding it off of him and pushing his jeans down over his hips. 

While he was careful of the graze on her left shoulder, there was no more hesitation in Reyes as he lifted her onto the bed and climbed on after her, trapping her wrists over her head and pinning her body beneath his. “You’re mine,” he agreed, kissing and then nipping the spot on her neck that never failed to arouse her. 

Ryder struggled a little, knowing he’d enjoy asserting himself and getting a thrill out of the mild pain from her nearly-healed injuries. The nip at her neck became a bite as his grip on her wrists tightened briefly. Switching to a one-handed hold, he reached down between them and guided his cock in, pumping hard as if to claim her with one thrust.

Between her trip to Scotland and his slump, it had been over a week since they'd last had sex. Ryder cried out as he stretched her inner walls, trying to buck upwards but restrained as his hips pressed against her. When she subsided he started to move, kissing her deeply as he brought his hand back up to her wrists.

The long, slow thrusts after so long without him worked almost as well as his toys would have for undoing her quickly. Reyes didn’t keep her pinned for long, probably mindful of her shoulder even as he fucked her, but that and the intensity of his movements was enough to turn her into a quivering mess begging him for more.

Shifting one hand to her nipple, he obliged her, bringing her to climax with a sharp pinch. He didn’t stop when she came, but slid his hand down her body to rub her clit with his thumb as he continued to plunge into her. 

Ryder tried to find words to tell Reyes how good he was making her feel but failed as waves of pleasure washed over her. She settled for holding him tightly and moaning his name as he freed her mouth to kiss her neck. The slight shift in the angle made him hit her g-spot just right, and she dug her nails into his back as she came again. 

Reyes grunted and sped up, losing coordination slightly as he found his release. The mark he made on her right shoulder would mirror the scar forming on the left in the morning, and she smiled even as she screamed his name one more time. One mark for battle, and one for love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo that was a difficult one to write for various reasons, but now we'll continue with the hunt for Archon. 
> 
> The incident with Spender referenced in this chapter is in Give and Take chapter 5, [Desire](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12297894/chapters/28293654).


	11. Clue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder works to find Archon.

The chirp of an incoming message woke Ryder the next morning. From the slant of the sun coming through the gap in the curtains it was late, not surprising given how late they’d gotten home the night before and their activity afterward. 

Out of habit, she reached for the phone on the bedside table only to realise that she’d left it in her purse, abandoned at the front door last night. She wouldn’t even have heard it had she not maxed the volume at the party. 

Reyes’ arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him, and she carefully tried to ease away without waking him. The arm tightened as Reyes made a grunt that might have been intended as a negation and curled even more tightly around her. 

Ryder had learned there was no escaping him when he got like this in his sleep and settled back against him. The tone hadn’t been one of the alarms she’d set to alert of a hack or security threat, and anyone trying to reach her urgently on Boxing Day would call. Reyes nuzzled at the back of her neck with a sigh and loosened his grip slightly, his breathing still slow and even with sleep. 

It was unusual for him to sleep this deeply and this late. Ryder stroked the arm around her gently, wondering if it was exhaustion or something else. After another ten minutes of wondering why she hadn't heard from Moshae yet and trying to plan her next move in the search for Archon and Meridian, Reyes stirred at her back. 

“ _Tenías razón. No está bien, pero es mejor_ ,” he mumbled into her hair, apparently still not all the way awake. Ryder wasn’t entirely sure of what he’d said, but she thought she caught the words “right”, “not good”, and “better”.

“One more time, love,” she murmured, turning onto her back to look at him.

Heavy-lidded eyes flicked over her face and settled on her lips. Black hair had worked itself loose of whatever he put in it to keep it in place and fallen over his brow. He smiled when she pushed it back out of his face and kissed his forehead.

“What did you say?” he asked sleepily.

Ryder snorted a laugh. He didn't look ill, so he must have been exhausted. “You said something in Spanish about ‘not good’ and ‘better’.”

He frowned, propping himself on his elbow. “Hmm. Oh. You were right. It’s still not good in here,” he lifted his hand from her belly to indicate his head, “but it's a little better.” Reyes flopped onto his back and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Shit. I must be tired if I'm speaking Spanish in my sleep.”

“Then maybe you should stay in bed today,” Ryder replied with a wicked grin. Reyes’ smile mirrored hers when he glanced at her, and she shrieked as his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her on top of him. “I thought you were tired!” Ryder gasped as he pulled her head down for a kiss and then rolled them to put himself topmost. 

“Are you complaining?” he purred, kissing her neck and rolling a hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Another chirp sang out downstairs, and Ryder ignored it. Getting Reyes to talk seemed to have broken a dam, and she was going to enjoy every last drop of what spilled over.

***

“Nine bloody messages?” Ryder muttered later, checking her phone as Reyes made brunch. Keema and Kian had sent two each, checking that she and Reyes had made it home safely. Those she answered quickly, knowing their friends would be concerned after what had happened last night. 

Another message was from Moshae. The scholar had recovered somewhat from her ordeal and wanted to meet, presumably to discuss how to find Archon. That was another easy one to answer; she arranged a meeting at Kralla’s Song for the next day, not intending to go out in the chaos that would be Boxing Day shopping in London and wanting the rest of the day to make sure Reyes wasn’t going to slip back.

The remaining four messages were from her brother. Ryder made a frustrated noise as she skimmed through them, annoyed at his persistence in the mere twelve hours that she’d been out of touch. Even Reyes waited forty-eight before doing something. 

“What’s wrong?” her lover asked from the kitchen. She glanced up, captivated for a moment by the deft way his fingers folded empanadas. He made them with seasoned ground beef from a recipe stored in memory from childhood, and only made the effort when he was feeling more homesick or down than usual - not that the man would ever admit to either feeling. _Definitely need to stick around today_. 

At his glance and slightly self-conscious half-smile, Ryder blew out her breath. “It’s Scott. Simultaneously berating me for ignoring him all holiday season and inviting me to a New Year’s Eve party on Saturday.” She chewed her lip and fiddled with her phone, knowing she should attend but not wanting to be there without Reyes and unsure if the timing was right for him to meet her brother.

“Are you going to go?” Reyes asked, folding another pastry and adding it to the neat rows he had prepared on baking sheets with the quickness of long practice. Ryder picked at the blanket on her lap. “I should,” she muttered, anxious about asking him but not wanting to go alone.

Reyes glanced at her sideways again, somehow reading her in the flick of his eyes. “Do you want a plus one?”

Squirming, Ryder winced and asked, “Would you go? I don’t want to force you into it, but…”

“But you’d like it,” Reyes prompted, setting the last empanada on the second tray and putting both in the oven.

“Yes,” she admitted in a small voice, tasting blood as she involuntarily bit her lip harder. “Is it...weird? Too soon to, um…”

“Meet your family?” Reyes finished for her, cocking his head and crossing his arms as he leaned with his rear against the counter. The corner of his mouth had the tiniest curl to it and his eyes had a mischievous shine. He was trying to keep a straight face. 

Ryder glared. “Well, yes!” she snapped. “It’s kind of a big deal!”

The curl became a full-blown grin. “No need to get defensive, _mi amor_. What happened last night was kind of a big deal, too.” 

_He’s enjoying getting some of his own back_ , Ryder realized as she shifted to tuck her feet under her and pluck at the blanket some more. “I know,” she muttered, cross and embarrassed and anxious all at once. _Meet my family? My law-abiding, uptight, perfect baby twin brother meeting my criminal mastermind boyfriend, with me in the middle?_ It sounded like a recipe for disaster.

“But?”

Ryder growled again. “But Scott’s a dick! He’s a self-righteous crusader for truth and justice with a professionally nosy streak, and it’s only gotten worse since Sloane’s thugs put him in that coma. He’s _still_ convinced that he’s going to be the one to crack the case on Sloane’s ‘disappearance’ and win a bloody Pulitzer prize or something.” She made air quotes on the word “disappearance” and avoided pointing out that all Scott would need to lock down his investigation was a slip-up on Reyes’ part. Introducing a murderer to a journalist seemed like a bad idea.

“Sounds like fun,” Reyes said with the Cheshire Cat’s shit-eating grin. Ryder flopped back onto the couch and pulled the blanket over her head. “You’re fucking impossible,” she complained. 

Somehow she always forgot that a man his size could sneak so quietly. She shrieked as his weight suddenly thumped onto the couch and his fingers captured her ankles before shifting to tickle her feet. “I’ll show you impossible,” he said, laughing at her struggles to escape. 

He let her go after a minute. Ryder pulled herself to the other end of the couch, trying to maintain her scowl, but his good mood was such a relief after the last week that she blurted out, “I love you.” 

“I’m not sure I believe you, with that expression,” he quipped. Crawling to his end of the couch, Ryder settled herself in his lap and kissed him. “I love you,” she repeated, resting her forehead against his and losing herself in the green-flecked gold of his eyes. “And I’d like you to meet my brother.”

***

It was with a lighter heart that Ryder arrived at Kralla’s Song the next day. There was a small knot of fear in her belly at the idea of her twin meeting her lover - the two were polar opposites, and Reyes in a mischievous mood could try the patience of a saint - but somehow it felt right. She marveled at the idea as she strode through the doors of the bar and down the stairs. 

Moshae was there already, fiddling with a glass of pink-tinged bubbles. Rose-flavoured sparkling water, if the half-empty bottle on the table was correct. Ryder was surprised; she wouldn’t have expected Umi to serve that kind of thing. 

The other woman rose, and Ryder’s gut clenched at the fading bruises on her face. “I feel better than I look,” Moshae said with a small smile. Ryder nodded, returning the smile weakly. Over the last week and a half, she’d managed to push aside the memories of her trip up north, the desperate moments of fighting and the sinking certainty that she should be dead. But now, looking into the other woman’s bright blue eyes, it all came flooding back. 

_All those people_.

“For what it’s worth, you made the right choice,” Moshae offered. Ryder slumped into the seat across from her and propped her helmet atop her satchel on the floor. “Is it that fucking obvious?” she snarled. 

The scholar regarded her with eyes full of both compassion and certainty. “I’d be concerned if it wasn’t.” She reached over the table to clasp Ryder’s hand. Ryder gritted her teeth and allowed it, not particularly liking to be touched but recognizing the good intentions of the gesture. “Thank you,” Moshae said. “It has helped, knowing that someone cares about my people enough to do what you did.”

Ryder hoped that would bring her solace one day, but for now, she had to swallow the pain. “At the...facility...you mentioned knowing where we could get more information about Meridian. Can you tell me where?”

Moshae’s eyes narrowed for a moment at her evasion before she folded her hands on the table. “I can. But it will require a field trip.” 

“I’ve got a motorcycle and all day to go anywhere,” Ryder replied. She just wanted what she’d done to be worth it, and to stop the asshole who’d forced her to kill a bunch of innocent people to stop him. 

***

The “field trip” took them to Evfra’s base of operations in Leyton. An unassuming kebab shop on the high street had a surprisingly large back room that opened onto a garden. It was probably quite pleasant in summer, but at the end of December, the space was all bare sticks and dead grass surrounded by a well-maintained stone wall. 

“Evfra,” Ryder said, nodding at the Resistance leader and wondering how much of what had happened in Scotland had made it back to him. 

Enough, apparently. “Ryder,” the scarred man replied with a snarl. Ryder ground her teeth together and stared right back at him. She couldn’t change what she’d done, couldn’t bring back the people she’d killed, and he hadn’t been there to have a say. She wouldn’t submit to his outrage. 

“Evfra, enough,” Moshae admonished before launching into her demand. “I know you spoke to Terev before the Mouth handed him over to the police. Give it to me,” she demanded, extending a hand. 

Evfra glanced at Ryder, the merest flicker of his eyes to hers, and Ryder steeled herself. She wouldn’t betray any deeper relationship with Reyes than Evfra was already aware of. “I will not,” the Resistance fighter insisted. 

Moshae’s eyes hardened. Ryder watched with new respect as she said in measured tones, “You will if you want to keep leading the Resistance. You may not agree with the actions taken in Scotland, but you will learn to live with them. Give me the drive. I know you have it.” 

Ryder watched as the two gazed resolutely at each other, sensing a larger power battle. It was Evfra who broke. 

“Fine, but be it on your head when this, this loose cannon, commits another atrocity,” he growled as he stood. 

Stomach heaving, Ryder watched him go to a safe she hadn’t noticed before. _Atrocity. That’s a good word for it_. She swallowed hard, determined not to show how badly he’d upset her, and Moshae squeezed her arm gently while Evfra’s back was turned. 

When he turned back around he had a slim, palm-sized data drive in one hand. “Take it. Maybe you can unlock it. Find this Archon and redeem yourself,” he snapped. Numbly, Ryder took the drive. 

“I’ll meet you outside,” Moshae whispered. Ryder saw herself out and waited by her motorcycle, turning the drive over in her hands without really seeing it. She hadn’t thought it possible to feel worse than she already did, but the day had both dredged up memories she’d buried under Reyes’ pain and brought new hurt to layer on top. 

She didn’t realize she was crying until Moshae’s concerned face swam into focus, blurred by tears. “He’s always been difficult,” the other woman murmured as if to herself, looking down the high street as if there was something interesting happening. “A passionate man trying to be cold.”

Ryder barked a laugh and scrubbed at her face. “What’s on this?” she asked, waving the drive. 

“Unless I miss my guess, a lead to Archon. After I was captured, Terev plugged it into a laptop and received instructions somehow. He thought I was unconscious, but he hadn’t beaten me hard enough for that,” she snarled, a dangerous look on her face. “It’s probably encrypted, but if you were able to override the facility generators, I think you can manage this.” 

Nodding, Ryder tucked it into her satchel. “Thanks. I’ll keep you posted. Need a ride anywhere?” 

Moshae shook her head. “Evfra and I have further business. But I know you’ll find the way to Archon.” 

“I guess someone has to,” Ryder sighed, pulling her helmet on. “Take care of yourself, Moshae.”

“And you, Ryder. And you. Don’t forget: you did the right thing.” 

It still didn’t feel like she had but as Ryder started the Tempest and turned the bike towards home, she hoped it was true.

Reyes was in his office when Ryder got back to his place, scowling at something on the screen in front of him. He glanced up, waved absently in greeting, then looked up again, eyes narrowing. Ryder kicked at the floor with a socked foot as he came to the door and opened it. 

“Everything okay, _pajarillo_?” he asked, kissing her forehead. She waved the drive. “My next clue in the search for Archon.”

Tilting her chin up, Reyes studied her. “I thought you’d be more excited.”

Ryder shrugged, not wanting to talk about it but knowing she owed it to him after what had happened at Kian’s party. “It’s good to be able to move forward. I just...it was hard to see Moshae again and...you know, remember everything.” 

Strong arms wrapped around her and Ryder buried her face against Reyes’ chest, clinging to his waist with her free hand as she tried not to cry. After a moment she stepped back. “I’ll be fine. I just need to be busy.” Turning to her own little room with its computers and monitors, she said over her shoulder, “Not sure how long this will take me. Can you poke me if I’m not out in twelve hours?” 

“Of course. I’ll be working if you need anything,” Reyes replied. 

As she sat at the desk and put SAM’s earpiece in, Ryder felt her shoulders ease a little. Reyes always had a soothing effect - at least, he did when he wasn’t lost in the past and being a moody fucker - and she was glad he’d opened up to her. It meant she could do the same, and she wasn’t sure how well she’d be handling all this on her own. The whole mass murderer thing was a bit heavy to carry alone. 

Pushing the depressing thought aside, Ryder prepared her system’s defenses in case the drive was protected with some kind of malware. “SAM, I’m going to plug in an external drive. It’s probably encrypted, and there may be defensive or offensive measures to contend with, and I think this was used to initiate communication so we need to avoid outgoing or incoming transmissions. We’re looking for information that will help us locate Kett bases or Archon himself. Ready?” 

“Yes, Pathfinder,” the AI replied. 

Ryder knocked her head twice for luck and plugged in the drive. 

###

Twelve hours later, Reyes leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. The wall clock said it was nearing two a.m. and he hadn’t seen Ryder since she’d returned home. When he stepped out of his office into the dark hall, a faint thump of bass from behind the closed door of Ryder’s office indicated that she was still at work. 

_She said to check on her after twelve hours_. He knocked, then opened the door when there was no answer, leaning against the frame. Lit by the monitors, Ryder was utterly engrossed in her work, frowning at the screens and muttering to herself. Or SAM, he realised as she finished her last snarled comment with the AI’s name. 

He studied her, unnoticed as she tapped away at her keyboard. _She’s still here_. The thought wandering through his mind had nothing to do with her still working, and everything to do with the fact that he hadn’t lost her over his Christmas slump. Almost, but hadn’t. The choice she’d given him had made everything even clearer, forcing him to see that he loved her enough to start knocking down his own walls. 

Those walls had been nearly twenty years of pain and heartbreak in the making, growing stronger and taller each year, and nothing had been worth enough for him to stop building or let someone in. 

Until now. Until Ryder. 

It hadn’t been an easy choice, but the panicked desperation he’d felt at the idea of her leaving told him everything he needed to know. He would do anything to keep her by his side, which made her as much a weapon to be used against him as she was a bulwark shoring him up. It was a dangerous conundrum, and one he hoped would never be put to the test.

For tonight, though, he wanted a glass of whiskey and sleep with her beside him, keeping his thoughts and dreams from growing too dark or reassuring him with her presence if they did. 

“Ryder,” he called softly. No answer other than clacking keys. Padding quietly into the room, Reyes stopped behind her chair and squinted dubiously at the three screens, trying and failing to make sense of the gibberish. “Ryder,” he tried again, settling his hands on her shoulders.

Her startled yelp was accompanied by a jump that would have caught him under the chin had he not held her down. “ _Jesus_ , Reyes, don’t _do_ that! Sneaky bastard!” 

Reyes couldn’t help laughing. “We need to work on your survival instincts, _mi amor_. Besides, I knocked, opened the door, and said your name.”

“Did you?” Tiredness and confusion had replaced irritation in her tone and she rubbed her eyes. “Fuck, I’m tired.”

Leaning over, Reyes whispered into her ear, “Then let’s go to bed.” 

***

Over the next day, Reyes waited patiently while Ryder worked. The desire for one of their bondage sessions had been growing since Kian’s party, but he’d held off on asking. Between this data drive and her concerns over the New Year’s Eve party with her twin, she was too tightly wound and distracted, her head not in the right place for it. Besides, it would be a good way to start New Year’s Day so he let his anticipation grow, stoked with thoughts of what he’d do with her. 

He knew when she’d succeeded with the drive when a loud _whoop_ and the rolling of her chair on the hardwood floor startled him out of his plans. He set aside the tablet he’d been working on, having read the same line at least three times in his distraction, and went to stick his head into her room. 

Ryder’s eyes shone with triumph and, as was her habit, she leapt up to kiss him, wrapping her legs around his hips. Reyes growled, her sudden closeness combining with his thoughts to tempt him to turn around and fuck her against the wall right there and then. She leaned back, narrowing her eyes. “I know that look. You have something interesting in mind.” 

Reyes snaked one hand up between them, lightly gripping her throat and enjoying the way her eyes filled with desire. “I do. Plans for the new year.” He squeezed briefly to make her gasp before releasing her, and she set her feet back on the floor. “What did you find?” he asked, turning them back to business before they got too distracted.

“A ship. Archon is on a ship.” Ryder frowned. “I wasn’t sure at first, that’s what took so long. SAM and I cracked the drive, but then figuring out the location data was another story. A ship is the only thing that makes sense. Somewhere off the coast of Dorset.”

Dorset. His influence wasn’t as strong there as it was in Southeast England, but Reyes still had some connections. “If it is a ship...it’s probably near Portland,” he mused, casting his mind back to his earliest days in the UK. 

“That was on my list to check. Why Portland?” Ryder asked, moving back to her chair and pulling up a map on one of the monitors. 

“There were naval and air bases there fifty years ago. They were shut down in budget cuts in the nineteen-nineties, but the infrastructure is still there. With all the tourists visiting the Jurassic Coast, nobody thinks much of strangers in town. Maybe a bit more so at this time of year, but there are always people trying to take advantage of cheap getaways and less competition for the fossils in the low season. It was good for smuggling ten years ago and with the way the economy has been the last couple of years it has probably gotten better.”

Ryder chewed her lip, gazing at the map a minute longer before answering. “That makes sense. Okay, so we can start the search there.” Her fingers tapped a beat on the desk. “That answers the where. Assuming SAM and I are right my question now is, why a ship?” She frowned, but neither of them had the answer. 

“Looks like we’re going on a road trip,” Reyes said. Ryder looked up at him, startled. “You’re coming?” 

With a shrug, Reyes told her he occasionally still had shipments come in on that side of the country before trucking them to their destinations. He didn’t mention that the contacts he planned to renew on the side were some pretty unsavoury people, but Ryder would need allies. Anubis knew the kind of people who would do dirty work with no questions asked for the right fee, and Reyes had more than enough money to cover it. 

He’d keep Ryder safe, somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for Reyes to meet Scott?


	12. New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder's team plans their next move. Reyes meets Scott, then celebrates the new year with Laz as only they can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, Reyes meets Scott. Unrelated to that, there is hardcore bondage smut at the end of the chapter. Happy new year, friends :).

Reyes watched from his office as Ryder and her team planned their mission to the coast. He'd be tagging along, but this was her show. Drack and Vetra had solid combat experience between them, and Reyes worked better as a loner. He'd let them guide her on the finer points of squad-based infiltration. The team, and Ryder's position as leader, would be stronger without his meddling.

Peebee messed with scattered bits of bot and interjected comments between bites from the tray of Lebanese nibbles he'd had catered in. Planning always went more smoothly on a satisfied stomach, and they were technically working while the office was closed. The least he could do was see everyone well fed.

Their planning sounded more like bickering at some points, but Reyes noted the way Ryder allowed it to a point before reining them in and back to the topic at hand. She was good, very good, at making sure everyone was heard without losing the thread of what was important. More permissive by far than he would have been, but it worked for this team. 

_Maybe this time she'll come back unscathed_. He had plans to put Ryder through more simulations before they left, close-quarters training. A building was tight for maneuvering but a ship would be tighter still, with no simple escape to the outside. He wasn't sure if she could swim and even if she could, the ocean at this time of year would be cold enough to kill in minutes. 

Reyes sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could pit her against every simulation he could imagine but still, there would be plenty of chances for her to be killed or injured. Ryder was one of those maddening “better lucky than good” types anyway, so he forced himself to stop trying to plan for every contingency inspired by the talk drifting into his office.

Instead, he focused on digging up contact details for those people he hoped to track down while they were at the coast. Morda might still be in business and with her distant cousin Drack along, she might be less inclined to kill Reyes on sight. Bain Massani had been banned from London for various reasons by several parties, but with Massani Senior abroad he could probably be tempted down from Birmingham with the promise of well-paying action. 

Anubis went through all his hidden files and mental notes, slowly and carefully reactivating the seedier links in his network. He couldn't go charging in with Ryder, but he could be waiting in the shadows with an expendable army if she needed him.

A shift in the shadows at the door caught his attention and he looked up as Ryder appeared in the doorway. She opened her mouth to say something but froze, turquoise eyes dancing over his face. “Everything okay?” she asked cautiously, easing into the room and shutting the door behind her. 

He snorted a laugh and beckoned her to him. _No survival instinct, but can tell when I'm ready to kill someone_. As always, the fact that Ryder could see him for what he was but wasn't scared of him aroused him. He felt his cock stir as she approached slowly, probably remembering what had happened the last time she’d startled him with that damned scanner, and schooled himself to patience. 

“Everything is fine. I’m making plans of my own for the trip,” he told her. She eyed him a moment longer, the muscles at the corner of her jaw bunching as she held herself back from asking him for details. “Contacts I need to revive,” he supplied, a rare pang of guilt at his habitual secretiveness loosening his tongue. “People who might be useful in a pinch. Just in case.” 

Her shift in posture gave him just enough warning to catch her as Ryder threw herself at him hard enough to tip the chair back to a dangerous angle, kissing him deeply. “Thank you,” she breathed, and he pulled her back with a grip on her shoulders, confused. “For what?”

“For telling me and not playing everything so bloody close to your chest.” 

Reyes blinked, feeling Anubis slip away. _It means that much to her for me to tell her?_ He knew she always wanted to know, but he’d assumed it was simple curiosity. Now he wondered if she took it to be a lack of trust, or something equally detrimental. 

_Shit_. Ryder never gave in to the temptation to ask, sticking to the agreement they’d made: he could have his secrets if he didn’t lie about big stuff. He knew she took lies seriously, but he hadn’t realised his evasions might be serious in a different way. 

“I do trust you,” he said in a low voice. “I’m just not used to having someone to trust. And what you don’t know can’t be tortured out of you.”

She shuddered, burying her face in his neck. “I know. But still. Thanks.” 

Rubbing her back, Reyes changed the subject. “What were you going to say when you came in?” 

Ryder leaned back, hands on his shoulders, her hips grinding deliciously against the growing bulge at his crotch. “Oh! I invited the team out to drinks at the pub around the corner. Do you want to come?” 

Reyes was tempted, but he had more work to do. “Go without me. We'll have fun tomorrow night...and on New Year's Day,” he said with a wink. Ryder shivered and purred, “Looking forward to it.”

Then she was gone, dashing back out into the main office space and rallying her team, her shouts greeted with enthusiastic cheers. Reyes settled back into his chair. 

He now had the perfect opportunity to research one Jasper Scott Ryder without interruption.

***

Ryder was thoroughly sloshed by the time Reyes finished his research and went down to the pub. His little bird was singing her heart out, standing on the bar and leading the other patrons in a rousing rendition of a “classic” song from thirty years ago. This one happened to be in Spanish, and the woman who could barely follow him sober was belting out her lines with only a mild accent and a few minor mistakes. 

_Despacito_  
_Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito_  
_Deja que te diga cosas al oído_  
_Para que te acuerdes si no estás conmigo_...

Amused, Reyes got a whiskey from the other end of the bar and went to lean against the wall next to the corner booth that held the coat he recognized as hers. He'd long suspected an exhibitionist streak in Ryder but hadn't seen it fully unfurled before now. That it would manifest itself in his native language during oldies night at a pub was a bonus.

When that song ended, Ryder relinquished her place, leaping down with surprising grace for one as shitfaced as she appeared to be and strode to the table with a giggling Peebee on her arm.

“I _told_ you I would do it. You owe me fifty quid!” Ryder hollered as they approached. Her eyes fell on him and she pulled up short, flushing deeply enough for the color to show against her tawny skin when she halted under the light of a wall sconce.

“ _Bravo, pajarillo. No sabía que hablases español tan bien_.” At her fish-faced gaping and Peebee's confused glances between them, Reyes couldn't help but laugh. Ryder appeared to have short-circuited and, mindful of the need for discretion, Reyes asked Peebee to excuse them.

Ryder stood close enough that he could feel the heat coming off of her, but didn’t touch him. “Are you cross?” she asked, eyes looking everywhere but at him. Reyes frowned. “Why would I be cross? I just wanted to ask if you need a ride home without Peebee wondering why two of her colleagues would be going home together.”

“Oh,” Ryder murmured, biting her lip as she kicked at the floor. “Okay. Yeah. Thanks.” 

They stood in silence for a few seconds, Ryder obviously conflicted about what to do now. Smirking, Reyes said, “I bet a hundred quid you wouldn’t get back up there and sing ‘ _Chantaje’_.” 

Turquoise eyes flashed wide as she finally met his gaze, disbelief morphing to challenge in an instant. “Better find a cash point, _señor_ ,” she snapped before striding back to the bar with a sassy sway that made his cock stir. Reyes finished his drink and followed her, signaling the bartender for another whiskey. Watching his girlfriend engage in a little innocent exhibitionism was just the thing to fuel his fantasies. 

***

Laz’ twin brother didn’t look much like her at all, for a twin. Scott was tall, a couple of centimetres shorter than Reyes himself, where Laz was a good twenty centimetres shorter than either of them. The younger Ryder twin appeared to lack his sister’s penchant for tattoos and colourful hair, keeping his hair in a short, tidy afro. His eyes were more of a dark hazel than Laz’ startling turquoise, and where she was slim, he was more muscular than Reyes would have expected from a journalist. 

Apparently, the surprise was mutual. “You’re not what I expected,” Scott said as he accepted the hand Reyes had extended. “One of my talents,” Reyes purred, injecting the faintest hint of a tease into his tone. Scott narrowed his eyes and Laz stiffened slightly at his side, plastering a forced smile on her face as her brother turned to her. 

“Good to see you fully recovered, Scott,” she said, leaning in for an awkward hug. Her twin accepted it briefly, then leaned back to look at her. “Good to see you too, sis. I...can’t remember you looking this good,” Scott returned. There wasn’t any irony or disdain in the words, but Laz bristled anyway. 

“Tell me about yourself, Scott,” Reyes interjected before Laz could say whatever was on the tip of her tongue. She muttered something about getting champagne before stalking away, her gunmetal-grey sheath dress showing an enticing hint of her back. 

By the time Laz returned, Scott had covered half of what Reyes had found and added to his dossier the day before. “What about yourself, Vidal? What do you do?” 

Laz, approaching from behind her brother, froze, her gaze flicking between the two men as she held three flutes of bubbly clustered in her hands. Reyes grinned easily, unable to help winking at Laz, which made Scott turn around. “I’m an independent consultant. Shipping and transport logistics, mainly,” he replied, accepting the glass at the point of the triangle in Laz’ grip. 

Scott’s attention sharpened. _There’s the journalist I was expecting_ , Reyes thought. “Shipping?” the other man questioned. “You wouldn’t have happened to work with a Dockmaster named Zia Cordier, by any chance?” 

Sliding a hand up Laz’ spine and over her shoulder, Reyes felt the tension in her muscles through the thin fabric of her dress. _Calmaté, mi reina_ , he projected at her, squeezing her shoulder in reassurance before wrapping his hand loosely around it. Scott frowned as he noticed, but the question of Zia was more important for the moment.

“I have worked with her, actually,” Reyes admitted, knowing that they would have been caught on CCTV on several occasions. “How do you know her?” 

“She’s important to a story I’m investigating,” Scott said seriously. “Were you aware she’d disappeared?” The other man’s eyes were sharp, as if he hoped to catch Reyes out somehow. 

Reyes lifted his eyebrows slightly. “I haven’t heard from her in awhile, but she is as unpredictable as she is ambitious,” he said, careful to use the present tense. “I’d assumed she had been promoted and reassigned.” 

“Assumed?” Scott pounced on the word, as Reyes had intended him to. “You’re a shipping consultant and you don’t know?” 

Shrugging, Reyes said, “Not my responsibility. I make recommendations on route optimization and lading. Dealing with what actually leaves or arrives in port is another department.” All completely true; he hadn’t dealt with Dockmasters directly in almost five years and had only dated Zia for the chance of a competitive advantage and the thrill of playing with fire. 

Scott eyed him a moment longer before reaching into the breast pocket of his tuxedo and withdrawing a wallet. Pulling a business card from it, he handed it to Reyes, saying, “If you hear anything about her, let me know.” 

Accepting the card, Reyes nodded. “I can do that.” 

“Enough business talk, boys,” Laz broke in, raising her glass. “Happy new year.” All three toasted each other before Scott excused himself to greet a colleague.

“What are you playing at?” Ryder hissed as soon as her brother was safely out of earshot. “Scott is a dog with a bone even when he hasn’t just uncovered a clue to a story he's obsessed with.”

“A trait that runs in the family,” Reyes teased, laughing at her scowl. “ _Venga, pajarillo_. Let's dance.”

Ryder perked up immediately, as he knew she would. She loved to dance and, for such a headstrong woman, followed his lead easily. He soon had her cackling at his observations about the other party guests and by the time she excused herself to the toilets, her shoulders had come down from around her ears. 

Reyes turned to get another drink and nearly bumped into Scott. Covering his annoyance with a cheeky smile, Reyes held his hands out and asked, “Were you waiting to cut in?” Scott frowned and took a half step back as he crossed his arms. “You make her laugh,” the younger man said. 

Shrugging, Reyes stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded toward the drinks table. Scott fell into step beside him. “It’s the least I can do. She’s a treasure, your sister.” 

“Never forget it,” Scott growled. “If something happens to her -” He cut off abruptly as Reyes halted and turned on him. “Nothing will happen to her. I won’t have it,” Anubis snarled back as his mind flashed to the memory of her sobbing in his arms the night she’d returned from Edinburgh. 

Scott eyed him warily, opened his mouth, then swallowed whatever he was going to say. Taking a calming breath, Reyes flashed his most charming smile and gestured again toward the beverage table. “What are you drinking?” 

As Scott moved with him toward the table, Reyes made a mental note to thank Laz for insisting he learn to balance the two sides of himself. That transition would not have been possible six months ago.

When she found them a few minutes later, Laz narrowed her eyes. Her quick glance between them made it clear she’d noticed a shift in the balance between her lover and her brother, but she was clever enough not to bring it up. 

Fortunately, Scott seemed to have gotten the message and didn’t hassle either of them further. Reyes and Laz mingled, Laz looking slightly bored whenever they weren’t dancing. The party was a goldmine of information for Reyes, though, with drunk journalists, news anchors, and other media industry notables speaking freely about stories they were working on. It was dangerous for him to be acquainted with Scott but for this evening at least, it was proving useful. 

“Working hard or hardly working?” Laz teased as they wandered away from a circle of boisterously argumentative editors to take a place on the balcony. Midnight was minutes away, and Laz wanted to see the fireworks. 

Reyes laughed. Trust her to catch him out playing information broker. “A bit of both. I can’t remember the last time it was this easy to get so much information,” he murmured, shrugging out of his jacket and dropping it over her shoulders. She swiftly stuck her arms through the sleeves, looking up at him over her shoulder with a grateful smile. Reyes hated being cold, but Laz had checked her shawl when the main room got warm and he could bear it for a few minutes.

As the crowd on the balcony swelled and started counting down the last seconds of the year, Reyes turned Laz to face him. Gazing down into her face, he felt his heart swell in his chest as she gave him _that look_ , the one that first drove him to hide his true identity from her, then to let her live despite her witnessing his double murder, then to promise that he wouldn’t hide things from her. 

“ONE!” the crowd shouted. Corks and fireworks popped and banged as Reyes took his lover’s face in both hands and kissed her with every ounce of affection in him. She was breathless and shivering from more than the cold when he released her, if the smoulder in her eyes was any indication. 

“I love you,” he blurted out, the words outracing his usual restraint. “I never want to be without you.” 

Jaw dropping, Laz gasped and her grip on his sleeves tightened before she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him even more passionately. 

“Get a room, you lot,” Scott’s voice said from behind Reyes. Laz broke off and answered for both of them. “Sod off, Scott,” she replied in a voice dripping with sugared venom before reclaiming Reyes’ lips. 

“I’m going to fuck that mouth later,” Reyes whispered when they came up for air, running a thumb over her lips. Laz threw back her head and laughed, the sound joining the other joyous cheers and shouts ringing out into the night.

“I love you, too,” she grinned. 

***

Anticipation was always part of the game. Reyes watched Ryder grow tense with it as they walked in the door, noted the way her eyes flicked from his eyes to his crotch to the stairs and back as she folded her shawl and set it on the console table. He’d told her he had plans for New Year’s Day, but not what or when. 

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and her breathing quickened as he nonchalantly hung up his overcoat and took off his shoes. Stretching, he proposed heading to bed. It was already two in the morning and Ryder’s eyelids were drooping despite her interest in what he had planned. She shivered and nodded.

Reyes indulged himself in undressing her once they’d reached the bedroom, standing behind her and slowly drawing down the zip at her hip, then slipping the dress off her shoulders. The cap sleeves effectively covered the fresh scar from the bullet graze, and he kissed the tender pink flesh after his hands passed over it. 

Turning to him, Ryder unbuttoned his shirt and skimmed her hands up his chest to slide it off his shoulders. “I know what you’re doing,” she murmured. Reyes chuckled, cutting off with a sharp intake of breath as she dragged her nails down his abdomen to undo his belt and trousers. 

“What are you going to do about it?” he taunted as her fingers, still cold from being gloveless outside, met the comparatively hot skin at his waist. It was his turn to shiver as they ran down his thighs, taking his trousers and boxer briefs with them, until Ryder knelt in front of him. 

“Sweet fuck all,” she smirked before dragging her tongue along his half-hard length and taking it into her mouth. Reyes grunted, his fingers tangling in her hair of their own accord, only to growl in frustration as she released him and eased back onto her heels. Her eyes danced with laughter as the tip of his cock audibly popped from her mouth. _Two can play this game_ , they said silently.

Two did play that game, the both of them frustrated with the heavy caresses and deep kisses they exchanged before sleep found them.

***

Reyes was watching when Ryder stirred, fighting consciousness every step of the way if the slight frown puckering her brows was any indication. She groaned lightly, cuddling closer to him and breathing deeply in a sigh with her nose buried against his chest.

Judging her awake enough to start the game, Reyes skimmed a hand up her spine and gripped a handful of hair. Ryder gasped, pupils sharpening and then dilating as her eyes opened, clutching at his flank with one hand. 

“ _Buenas días, mi reina_ ,” Reyes greeted her. Ryder’s lips parted but no words made it out. Marvelling at the goosebumps arising on the exposed areas of her skin, Reyes purred, “Are you ready to play?”

Ryder nodded, eyelashes fluttering as her hair tugged against his grasp. “Yes.”

After re-confirming her verbal safeword and non-verbal signal, Reyes released her long enough to reach into the drawer of the nightstand and withdraw a length of white silk rope. 

“Roll onto your stomach and hold onto each forearm behind your back,” he commanded. Ryder, not usually a morning person nor particularly responsive so soon after awakening, obeyed immediately. Reyes bound her arms fairly loosely, judging that the modified position wouldn’t strain her newly-healed shoulder while still restraining her.

“If that shoulder begins to hurt, stop me,” he told her, tapping the shoulder in question, just to be sure. Restraint and control were one thing. He would never intentionally cause Ryder undue or improper pain, especially not in the pursuit of pleasure.

She assented. After checking the bindings, Reyes positioned her on her knees and came around in front of her, both of them kneeling on the bed. “We have unfinished business from last night,” he prompted.

Ryder leaned forward, slightly awkward with her arms behind her, and took him into her mouth. He let her work for a few minutes before taking over, holding her head still and thrusting upward. Ryder grunted, fighting the ropes for a moment before subsiding and doing her best to open her throat. 

The angle wouldn’t let Reyes go as deep as he wanted, so he pulled her up. “On your back,” he told her. Rising from the bed, he took a moment to admire her lean form and run a hand from knee to shoulder before turning to pull nipple clamps from the drawer. Ryder licked her lips, eyes fixed on the chain. 

When he tugged her to the foot of the bed and positioned her so that her head hung off the end, she understood immediately and opened her mouth. Reyes affixed a clamp to each nipple before slipping between her lips. 

_That’s the angle I wanted_ , he thought, tugging on the clamps as he pumped his hips. Ryder’s strangled moans joined the wet heat of her mouth and the thrilling graze of her teeth to heighten his pleasure faster than he’d anticipated. 

Taking a solid grip on her throat to hold her still with one hand and pulling mercilessly on the clamps with the other, Reyes thrust deep and emptied his aching balls down Ryder’s throat. She writhed, coughing when she tried to cry out at the combined pressure of his hand and the clamps, but didn’t lift a foot to tap out. 

Reyes released her as soon as he’d finished, stepping back to watch her cough again and try to catch her breath. Seeing her like this, used and gasping, satisfied the part of him that was Anubis immensely. She was _his_ and he’d had her for his pleasure alone. 

“We’re not done yet,” he warned her. Ryder coughed once more before croaking, “I didn’t think we were. Bring it on.” 

Her defiance brought a delighted smile to his lips. He’d missed this, and had something new in store for her today. 

While he recovered, Reyes used teeth and a vibrator to drive Ryder into a frenzy. He intentionally left her free to move around, reveling in every failed escape attempt as she tried to wiggle free of him. When he was ready again, he wrestled her onto her stomach and hooked an arm around her throat to haul her upright on her knees. Her nails scrabbled against his abs as he held her close and asked if she wanted to give her safeword. 

“Fuck you!” she gasped out, the pressure of his bicep and forearm at either side of her windpipe making the words come out with a rasp. 

“ _Me encanta cuando hablas sucio_ ,” he murmured in her ear, gripping his cock and slamming it home into her core. The force of it carried them both forward and he fucked her hard, driving grunts and short screams from her on every thrust. 

“You.” 

_Thrust_.

“Are.” 

_Thrust_.

“Mine.”

 _Thrust_.

The rational, thinking part of him knew that he was reacting to everything that had happened in the last two weeks. Ryder being shot on the Edinburgh mission, the threat of her leaving him at Christmas, even the relatively minor threat from her brother. Despite everything she was still here, and she was his. 

As Reyes claimed her, Ryder’s struggles weakened until she stopped fighting him and curses turned to pleas. _Mine_ , Reyes thought a final time as he buried his cock into the heat between her thighs and spilled his seed. _And she knows it_.

Ryder was panting when he withdrew, laying limp beneath him. “We’re still not finished, unless you’d like to say a certain word,” he taunted in a growl, crouched low over her entire body. 

“Reyes, please…” she whimpered. 

“That’s not the word,” he pointed out, rolling off her to crouch at the foot of the bed. Grasping her chin, he turned her head toward the sybian. Her eyes widened as she finally noticed the change he’d made to it while she was sleeping. 

Where there was usually a small, slightly raised nub, a full-size dildo rose from the seat of the sybian. “Oh, no,” she breathed. 

“Oh, yes,” he purred. “Any last words before the little death?” 

“Please,” she moaned again.

Chuckling, Reyes helped her upright and off the bed. “Last chance, or you’ll come until you can’t.” 

A flare of resolve brightened Ryder’s tear-slicked eyes. She staggered slightly, off-balance from her arms still being bound behind her, before leaning forward to bite his lip. 

Reyes grunted, then let Anubis out to smile and went to the drawer to withdraw a wide collar and a flogger. Ryder shivered as he fastened the collar around her slim neck and tugged her toward the sybian by its leather lead. She groaned as she sank onto the dildo and the thick, brush-like tendrils of the forward attachment massaged her clit.

“Comfortable?” he teased as she shifted. At her glare, he smirked and fastened the lead to the ring at the rear of the sybian, tying it off with a quick-release slipknot so that she couldn’t rise without choking herself. With her arms behind her back, her breasts were forced forward, more so as she tried to find slack in the lead. 

One way or another she wouldn’t last long, and Anubis felt a rising excitement at the idea of breaking her. 

As he flopped back into the armchair facing Ryder, he took a minute to evaluate her. She quivered in her seat but had enough of a spark left in her to last a little while longer. Anubis flicked the sybian on the lowest setting, letting her grow accustomed to the thrusting of the new appendage inside her before turning it up a notch. Ryder whimpered, but the muscles of her jaw clenched as she refused to cry out. His cum leaked out, shining on her thighs and the leather saddle alike.

Anubis mercilessly switched the device to its highest setting, rewarded immediately with a startled shout and the sight of Ryder trying to arc up and off the seat. “Ahhhh! Reyes, you - ahhhh - you bastard!” 

He’d told her she’d come until she couldn’t and he’d meant it. Within minutes, Ryder sobbed as the first orgasm rolled over her. Anubis turned the setting back down as she heaved deep breaths, unable to help stroking his rapidly-hardening cock. When she’d caught her breath, he turned it back up. She cried out, trying and failing to escape the sexual torment he’d devised.

The idea of fucking her mouth again tempted him, but he’d already pushed her hard. She’d need her mouth to give the safeword; it would be difficult for her to give her non-verbal in her current position. 

In any case, the sight of her body bucking against her restraints, trying not to succumb to the coaxing of the sybian, was worth simply watching. Knowing that a hint of pain would speed her on her way to climax, Anubis stood, flogger in hand, and approached. 

“No, please -” Ryder protested as he lazily flicked it at her belly with a snap of his wrist, simultaneously tugging the chain on her clamped nipples. She arched back, shouting in mingled pain and pleasure as her eyelashes fluttered. While she was distracted, Anubis set the flogger aside and turned the setting up once more. Ryder’s stamina was admirable, but he was certain this would be her last orgasm. He'd used her too roughly earlier.

He raced her to it, spurred on by the knowledge that he was close to breaking her. As she tensed and moaned in the grips of another climax, Anubis pulled her head back with a tug on her hair and found his own peak, decorating her lips with the pearls of his release.

He didn’t turn the device down this time, smiling cruelly as she stared up at him with wide eyes. _Will she keep going?_

No. Her mouth started to form the first syllable of her safeword, and he immediately turned off the sybian. A single quick step put him in reach of the slipknot and he tugged the end of it, catching Ryder as she rose off of the dildo and started to slump. 

“I have you,” he reassured her. “You’re mine, _mi reina_ , and I have you.” 

Ryder whimpered as he lowered her gently to the floor and undid the ropes binding her arms as quickly as he was able. “Can I touch you?” he asked as she shook her arms free and brought them in front of her with a groan. 

“Y-yes,” she mumbled against the carpet. Reyes swiftly gathered her into his arms and deposited her gently on the bed, belly down. Once she settled, he rubbed her neck, shoulders, and arms with long, even strokes, praising her in a blend of English and Spanish that probably wouldn’t make sense to anyone but them. When her muscles started to relax under his fingers, he leaned toward the nightstand and poured a glass of water from the carafe he kept out of habit. 

At the sound of sloshing water, Ryder wearily lifted her head and reached for the tumbler. Reyes turned her over and eased her upright into his embrace, sitting with her back to his front, before giving it to her. She gulped it down, spluttering slightly as she swallowed too quickly, and tiredly demanded more. 

Reyes gave it to her, not realizing he was humming until she croaked, “That’s pretty.” He paused, trying to figure out what the tune had been. A lullaby, he thought. One his long-dead sister used to sing when he was ill. 

Ryder finished the second glass and held it out for him to take. As he set it on the nightstand and started humming again, Ryder slurred, “I love you.” Her head dropped to her chest and her breathing deepened as she passed out cold, completely exhausted. 

Settling his chin on her head, Reyes wrapped himself around his woman as much as he was able. He’d relentlessly pushed her to the limits of her endurance, and she curled up in his arms afterward and told him she loved him. 

_Whatever it takes to keep you safe, I’ll do it_ , he promised her silently. 

_I’ll do anything_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Reyes. You might regret that promise one day...


	13. Harbour

Despite the faint rumbling of his stomach, Reyes was not at all inclined to get up and make brunch. Or lunch, given the angle of the dim rays of sunlight coming through the window. He was sated, demons purged for the time being, and Ryder rested cradled in his embrace. Reyes hadn’t known very much of interpersonal comfort in his life, but this...this must be it. 

“Reyes?”

“Mmm?” he queried, half asleep and falling fast, wrapped in the amber and orange flower scent of Ryder's hair. 

“Do you ever, like...I dunno.” Ryder squirmed in his arms. “Think about...nevermind.”

“What is it?” Reyes asked sleepily, wanting to get to the reason for her hesitation. It wasn't like her to dance around with her words.

Her reply started haltingly before tumbling out in a rush. “What do you think about…ummm…like maybe...moving in together? Someday, you know, not like now or anything. It just seems like this is working and I like it. You. This. I like this.”

It took him a moment to process what she’d said; then he started laughing. All this time he'd been avoiding asking her and she’d brought it up in the most awkward way possible. 

Ryder started wiggling to get free of him, growling wordlessly, and he rolled them so that he could pin her on her belly. “ _Cálmate_ , Laz. I'm laughing because I've been thinking about it for months.”

She went completely still beneath him. “You have?”

Reyes kissed her neck, a gentle trail up to her jaw, admiring as he did the way her blue hair contrasted with the black sheets. “Yes. But I didn't think you'd ever want to give up your place and…”

“And what?” she prompted softly when he trailed off. 

Sighing, Reyes pushed himself off her and finished the thought. “I was afraid my Christmas...thing...would drive you away.” He barely breathed the words to the back of her neck, not wanting to admit them at all. 

“Reyes,” she murmured, a gentle admonishment in her tone. “Everyone has shit to deal with. You let me in. That’s enough.” 

_Is it?_ Reyes wasn’t sure, but it was what he wanted and he was determined to earn the trust and faith she’d extended. “When you're ready, we'll figure it out,” he said softly, his words stirring her hair.

That seemed to be enough. Ryder settled again, her breathing sliding back into the slow rhythm of sleep. 

This was the laziest New Year's Day Reyes could remember, but he was okay with that. It was also the first in a while that he felt at peace. 

Lulled by Ryder's comfort, he followed her into a nap.

###

Ryder wasn’t sure how long she and Reyes spent in bed that day, but the fact that they’d played through breakfast and slept through lunch suggested they’d both needed the release and the rest. Her body had the pleasant ache Reyes’ games always left her with; fighting him so hard and being so thoroughly used had been cathartic. All the frustrated energy she’d had pent up during his moody period over the holidays, all of the anxiety that had built up around his meeting Scott, was spent. 

The cherry on top was his surprisingly easy acceptance of them living together for real. _He’s been thinking about it for months and didn’t tell me! Bastard_ , she thought affectionately, watching him chop onions in the kitchen. _Although to be fair, I wasn’t ready before now_. 

Reyes’ spontaneous confession after their New Year’s kiss was what had convinced her. On the rare occasions he told her he loved her, it was usually in Spanish and usually as a reassurance after a disagreement. He’d certainly never said the other bit before, about never wanting to be without her. 

With her heart soothed, her mind cleared, and her body satisfied, Ryder set to her tasks for the Initiative with a light heart, for once. New Year’s Day and the following Monday were bank holidays, but her team’s plan called for a drive to the coast on Wednesday and she needed to make her part-time hours. Pushing Tann by requesting more time off might be amusing, but she couldn’t afford to risk losing access to the refugee centres she’d worked so hard to build. 

Not now, when they were so much in danger. 

The upcoming trip to Dorset had her thoughts racing. The team had succeeded in Edinburgh but was still new to the work and each other, and the horrors she’d witnessed up north still haunted her. How much worse would it be on a ship controlled by the Kett’s leader, in a closed environment with little to no risk of outside discovery? 

Ryder’s stomach churned, the peace she’d found in Reyes vanishing. For now, their plan called for her to stay on shore, doing what she could to guide the team and provide access remotely. If the situation turned out to be another Edinburgh with jamming technology, or if the ship was too far offshore for her relatively short-range equipment to reach, she’d have to go in. 

She desperately didn’t want to board the ship but as the team leader, Ryder had to be willing to do whatever she asked of her people. If she had to board to get the job done, she’d do it. 

***

Three days later they were in Portland Harbour. Ryder, Vetra, Peebee, and Drack had piled into the Nomad with their gear, with Kallo serving as driver again. 

Reyes had insisted on joining them this time, the corners of his eyes tight even as Anubis stared flatly out of them. He was worried and trying to hide it, which did nothing for Ryder’s rising anxiety. She’d swallowed her reflexive protests and nodded when he’d confirmed his intention to join them, remembering his plans to find people who might be useful. None of them knew what they’d find and Ryder would take all the help they could get. 

They had rented a small cottage just outside town, ostensibly for a company retreat. The team had also picked up a few groceries on their way, enough for a couple of breakfasts and light snacks. 

The location provided more privacy than lodging nearer the harbour would have, especially given the uniqueness of the Nomad and the flashiness of Reyes’ Land Rover. They’d intentionally timed their arrival to fall at night and both vehicles were now parked in the property’s barn, safe from the danger of small-town curiosity. Reyes had scanned the place with some device he’d brought in his luggage and declared the property free of surveillance devices, so they were free to plan.

The downside to the arrangement was the need for discretion. Reyes had warned her before they left his flat that Drack was the only one who had figured out they were together, leaving it to her to decide how much the rest of the team should know. 

For the time being, Ryder had decided telling the team would be an unneeded distraction. Everyone knew she and Reyes worked closely together and their natural chemistry was impossible to hide, but for now, she needed everyone to focus on the mission. 

That meant being seated across from him at the large, farm-style dining table that evening, reminding herself every few minutes to keep her feet to herself and not run them up Reyes’ leg. The sparkle in his eye hinted at his knowledge of her difficulty. Ryder finished her Chinese takeaway quickly before excusing herself to the cottage’s small study with her laptop, hoping that nobody else had noticed. 

Popping in SAM’s earpiece, she picked up where they’d left off on the location data. “SAM, see if you can’t narrow down the search radius now that we're closer to the signal,” she instructed the AI. The expanse of sea they’d identified in London looked relatively small on a map but would take a long time to search. At this time of year, it was too cold and the water too treacherous to spend even an hour tacking back and forth. 

She was reviewing the locations and footage from hacked security cameras at the port when a finger trailed lightly down her neck. “God _damn_ it, Reyes!” she shouted, jumping half out of her skin. Sneaking up on her, _again_ , purely because he could. His mischievous grin morphed into a bland nonchalance when Peebee stuck her head into the small room.

“Do you always talk to your boss like that?” she inquired, mouth quirked in amusement. 

Ryder felt her face afire with a blush she hoped was hidden by the dim lighting. “He's not my boss,” she snapped. “He's a fucking pain in the ass.”

“Uh...huh…” Peebee replied, obviously confused. Ryder didn't blame her; nobody really knew what Reyes did at Collective and assumed his official role as a consultant included managing her, since they worked so closely together and he had seniority at the company. Fortunately, the distractible woman had another purpose for coming to find Ryder. “If we're not going after this ship until tomorrow night at the earliest, Vetra and I are gonna go out on the town, try to collect some intel.”

“I'll be here, finding the ship,” Ryder grumbled. “What about Drack and Kallo?” 

Peebee shrugged. “Drack's gone. Kallo offered to be designated driver.”

Digging into his pocket, Reyes handed his key fob to Peebee. “Take the Land Rover. It's less memorable than the Nomad.”

When she had gone, Reyes murmured, “Drack went to meet someone. A little insurance. I'll be heading out in half an hour to do the same.”

Ryder frowned. “Who exactly are you two meeting?”

Reyes was silent long enough for Ryder to look up from her monitor. He had the distant, flat look that said this topic fell under their agreement and he wasn't going to share this time. “Nevermind,” she sighed. “Just be safe, okay?”

He planted a quick kiss on the crown of her head before leaning over, one hand resting on the desk and the other on the back of her chair. The position was the same one he'd taken when she did her first job for him, the better part of a year ago.

Just like then, sexual tension zinged through her. And just like then, she couldn't have him yet.

_Fuck_. “Reyes,” she whispered, tilting her head just enough that she could catch a hint of his cologne, teasing herself. He turned ever so slightly toward her, his lips almost but not quite brushing her ear. “How's the search going?” he asked in a voice only slightly louder than hers had been. Its rich undertones sparked something in her belly.

Ryder swallowed. She had a job to do and half her team within earshot. Fucking him now was out of the question. “SAM, anything?” 

The AI confirmed that it had indeed narrowed in on the signal, adding that it was fainter than it had been. “Moving further offshore,” Reyes murmured, sending chills down Ryder's spine.

“When we get back to London…” she threatened. A low, smug chuckle was his only response. 

“Bastard,” Ryder muttered, forcing her attention back to the camera footage.

She spotted the unmistakable signs of Kett body modification on the face of a figure in a hoodie at the same time SAM announced that it had pinpointed the signal.

“They're really here,” Ryder breathed, staring at the red dot indicating the ship’s location, then at the zoomed-in still of the Kett acolyte. 

Reyes reached for the notepad and a pen from the desk, scribbling a series of numbers and letters. “Coordinates?” Reyder asked.

“And a heading,” he replied, neatly tearing off the page, folding it, and tucking it into a pocket. _Heading?_ Ryder frowned. “Wait, you don't just ship things? You can drive a boat? Since when?”

Straightening, Reyes eyed her warily before replying. “Since I was in the navy. Briefly.”

Ryder stared, feeling her jaw drop. “In Chile?” she asked dumbly. It would explain where he'd learned to handle weapons so professionally, but she couldn't picture Reyes in the armed forces. They only rules and regulations he obeyed were his own.

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his shoulders. From the bunching of the muscles in his jaw, that's all he was willing to say about it.

“Oookay, then,” Ryder muttered. Every time she thought she knew the man, another layer revealed itself. _At least this time it's not something bad_ , she thought, turning back to the laptop. “SAM, would I be able to support the team from shore?”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Reyes’ posture relax as soon as he realised she wasn't going to push. He leaned over her chair again, kissing her cheek quickly. 

“Not likely,” SAM replied, the synthetic voice emanating from the laptop’s speakers now so that Reyes could hear as well. “The vessel is too far offshore to maintain a reliable signal. If it moves any farther out, there will not be a signal from shore at all.”

“Fuck,” Ryder swore, slumping in her seat. “Looks like I'm going in.”

Reyes squeezed her shoulder and they held a troubled silence, gazing at the point of red on the monitor until he had to leave.

***

Ryder woke alone late the next morning, groggy after a sleepless night. She'd gone straight to bed after Reyes left, only to lay awake for hours. Scenes from the Kett facility in the Cairngorms replayed behind her eyes every time she closed them and her stomach roiled. She was still awake when first Drack, then Vetra, Peebee, and Kallo, and finally Reyes returned to the house. Dawn was lightening the sky to a dark grey when she finally dozed off.

The scent of frying bacon and potatoes woke her, luring her out of fitful sleep. Digging in her suitcase, she pulled out a pair of lounge trousers and tugged yesterday's tank top over her head before stumbling down to the kitchen.

Reyes and Drack were busy preparing brunch, with a chattering, clear-eyed Kallo brewing coffee. Vetra and Peebee were mirror images of misery, heads down on the kitchen table with steaming mugs of what smelled like peppermint tea at their elbows.

“There's our last sleepyhead,” Reyes teased as Ryder peered into the kettle for more water.

“Fuck you,” she muttered. Nobody should be as cheerful in the morning as Reyes could be on as little sleep as he usually got. It was unnatural.

Ryder opened her mouth again, then bit her tongue before she could say more. It was a scene that had played out at home more than once and usually ended with exactly that - fucking. _Not possible this morning, unfortunately_. 

“Should you talk to your boss like that?” Vetra asked the table.

Dropping an Earl Grey teabag into the mug Kallo handed her, Ryder splashed the rest of the hot water over it and groused, “For the tenth time, he's not my boss.”

“Oh.” Vetra’s hangover seemed to make her indisposed to further questioning, to Ryder's relief. _Maybe I should just tell everyone he's my boyfriend_. 

Later. She needed to focus on the updated plan for the mission. “He's our captain,” Ryder continued, dropping into the chair next to Vetra. Peebee lifted her head, squinting painfully in the light from the overhead lamp. “Captain? Like boats?”

“Like boats,” Ryder agreed, taking a life-restoring sip of tea and feeling her shoulders ease slightly. She might not be feeling as poorly as the other two women just now, but she'd needed this cuppa. 

“You found the Kett ship?” Vetra asked, still addressing the table. 

Ryder rose again and went to the fridge, startled to find lemon already sliced. She frowned at Reyes from behind the fridge door. He knew she took her tea with lemon. 

Sure enough, the corner of his lip had a tiny smile as he turned to the counter to plate bacon and toast. _Annoyingly cheerful bastard for this time of day, but a lovely one_ , Ryder allowed as she snagged two slices.

She filled the team in over breakfast, hiding her nerves as best she could. Reyes would take them out to the signal’s origin. They would try to get close undetected. Ryder and SAM would check for alarms, then everyone but Reyes would board. They'd deal with whatever they found as best they could, with the objective of identifying and acquiring anything that could provide more details about whatever this Meridian project entailed. Moshae had seemed to think the information would be stored on a computer in Archon’s quarters, so they'd head there first. The human trafficking group couldn't be left with any way of recovering anything of use.

Drack informed everyone that they'd have backup on shore if needed. Ryder caught Reyes’ sharp glance at the statement and wondered at it, but didn't push. She was fairly sure the two men had a longer prior history than she was fully aware of, which probably included a fair amount of secrets and blood. Neither was likely to be forthcoming and she trusted both men to keep any dangerous elements under control.

Vetra and Peebee hadn't gained their hangovers in vain; they'd met a number of harbour workers who had whispered about deformed strangers seen at odd times of the night and the uptick in missing persons. The two had also confirmed the usual arrival and departure hours of both commercial and off-the-books ships to the port. The workers had only been too happy to share their knowledge - and their tabs - with two beautiful women from out-of-town, and the information came in handy as they decided on a time to leave.

After another hour of planning, Ryder released the team to prep in whatever way they saw fit based on the mission parameters. For her part, that meant trying to take a nap, then checking and rechecking her hacking programs, viruses, and other little tricks used to gain access to foreign systems. She also had SAM keep track of the Kett ship’s movement.

As evening drew on Ryder slipped into Reyes’ room full of a tingling energy that made her skin crawl. Everyone else seemed to be busy and she wasn’t sure when she’d get another chance to catch him alone. “Hi,” she greeted him softly. Ryder shut the door behind her, leaving as small a crack as he had, and went to him in a rush. Reyes stood in time to catch her in his arms, a muffled grunt greeting the force of her impact. 

Ryder’s heart thundered as their lips met and she opened her mouth for his tongue. His hands ran down her curves, cupping her ass to pull her even closer to him. Ryder broke off with a gasp as lust shot through her. She looked up at him, trying to memorize his face and running the fingers of one hand through his dark hair. If something went wrong later, if there were more horrible experiments waiting, she wanted to have something good to fix on in her mind.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Reyes murmured, “but I thought we were being subtle?” 

“I shut the door. That’s subtle, right?” 

A cheeky grin curved his lips. “ _Mi amor_ , let’s just say subtlety is not your strongest talent.”

With one last quick kiss, Ryder stepped back. “I...needed to do that. Just in case.” 

Reyes’ expression said he understood. That was one of the things she loved about him - he nearly always understood her, even when she lacked the words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a setup chapter...get ready for some action in the next one.


	14. Boarding

The freezing salt spray of seawater punctuated the cut of the wind to make Ryder thoroughly miserable. Reyes was prioritizing speed over comfort in the hope that they could get close to the signal before being noticed and the little boat he’d acquired raced over the choppy water. The entire team hunched low, clutching gear and gripping any handhold they could find.

For a man who hated being cold, Reyes showed no sign of discomfort. A knit cap snugged around his ears and a heavy, water-resistant coat seemed to be doing more for him than Ryder’s kit was for her. She had no idea how he could tell where he was going in the dark and wondered whether it was his time in the navy or his time as a smuggler that was serving them here. _Probably both_. 

Another bump lifted Ryder into the air, jarring her tailbone when she came down hard. She bit off a curse. 

“The harder you hold on, the more you bounce,” Reyes said casually, just loud enough to be heard over the engine and the wind. To Ryder's surprise, he was right.

Even with the loosened hold, her fingers were starting to cramp when the boat slowed. “Why…” Ryder started, not completing her sentence as she realised there was a huge black mass blotting out the stars on the horizon. “Fuck me,” she muttered, the sentiment echoing around the ship as the others caught on. Only Reyes withheld comment.

There wasn't just one ship. There were two, both huge compared to their oversized motorboat. The onboard lights of the bigger ship illuminated lines joining the two together and what Ryder guessed were weapons aimed at the smaller vessel. “ _Paarchero_ ,” she read aloud, seeing that ship’s name written in tall letters along the side as they got closer. It seemed familiar somehow but she couldn't figure out why.

Ryder wasn't sure what she'd expected, but this was not it. “Now what?” Peebee hissed. “Were there supposed to be two ships?”

Shaking her head, Ryder frowned. _Where have I heard that name?_ It was unusual enough that she should remember.

And then she did, the realisation making her stomach clench. “Ryder?” Reyes prompted, his tone sharp. 

“It's a refugee ship. Shitting hell, that's the missing refugee ship that was due last month.” With everything that had happened, Ryder had somehow managed to forget the report that had briefly made news at the Initiative. The vessel had been assumed lost at sea, but no resources were available to confirm. Too many ships came in, too many refugees, and resources were stretched thin.

“What’s the plan?” Drack asked. 

“I’m working on it,” Ryder growled, mind racing. “We have to check on their status...we play this right, not only do we get away with the intel, we save the refugees. If there are survivors, we can't just go blazing onto the Kett ship. I don't -” Her voice failed her as bile rose and she choked it back down. “I don't want another Edinburgh,” she whispered shakily. She'd do what she had to do, but she desperately didn't want to make another choice like that.

“I say we get onto the _Paarchero_ , assess the situation, and then sneak onto the Kett ship.”

Without a question, Reyes steered them slowly toward the far side of the smaller vessel. Ryder's skin crawled as she waited for someone to hear the _putt putt putt_ of the engine or turn a spotlight toward them, but nothing happened. 

As Reyes eased alongside the ladder bars welded to the Paarchero's side, Ryder's team strapped into bulletproof vests and shouldered gear. “Drack, you're up first to secure our boarding. Then Vetra, then me, then Peebee. Reyes, do whatever you think best with the boat but don't go far. I'd rather not have to swim back,” Ryder ordered, trying to offset the slight waver she could hear in her own voice with a sorry excuse for a joke. 

Drack swarmed up the side more quickly and nimbly than Ryder would have expected for someone his size and age. Vetra made the climb in even less time, her pack seeming no hindrance as her tall, lean frame disappeared after him. 

Then it was her turn. Ryder couldn't help turning to Reyes, staring mutely at the man she loved as she prayed that she'd see him again.

“Come back,” he said sternly, expression flattening into Anubis’ distant hardness. Ryder nodded, swallowed the “I love you” bubbling in the back of her throat, and pulled the balaclava she wore as a cap down over her face.

It was a long, hard climb. Her physical fitness and endurance had improved since meeting Reyes but she was what she was: a desk jockey who spent more time at her keyboard than she did exercising. _I'll need to remedy that_ , she cursed herself, breathing hard as she stretched for the next rung, then the next. They were awkwardly spaced for someone as short as she, and while she had the lightest pack, it felt heavier with each step up.

Finally, she hauled herself over the side, crouching to adjust to the subtle rocking of the boat until her breath returned. Vetra flashed the hand signal for “okay” from the crate she was hidden behind and Ryder returned it, shuffling closer.

“Status?” she whispered. 

“Drack is scouting. We haven't seen anyone. It's completely quiet,” Vetra murmured back. Nodding, Ryder slung her pack carefully to the deck and rolled her aching shoulders as they waited for Peebee. 

A few minutes later, the woman's head appeared and Ryder went to give her a hand up. Peebee was even shorter than she was so would have had even harder going.

“So,” Peebee panted. “You and Reyes?”

Ryder froze. This was exactly what she _didn't_ want to think about just now.

“It's cool. Although he's a little scary when he's worried like that.” Peebee's sassy grin was not reassuring in the slightest. 

“We're not having this conversation now,” Ryder warned her. _Ideally, we're having it never_. The smaller woman shrugged, still grinning, and stood.

Drack reappeared as Ryder slowly found her feet. “It's a mess below decks,” he informed them in a quiet rumble. “Signs of a struggle, broken equipment, some portable medical devices.” He paused, then added, “Bodies, in bad shape.”

“Fuck,” Ryder muttered. “Take us down. I need to know if there are any survivors here before we head over to the other ship.”

When he'd said “in bad shape” Ryder felt her stomach turn. Her apprehension was well-founded. _Breathe_ , she reminded herself as the beam from her gun light fell on the first of the corpses. Maybe Reyes would be able to tell how long they'd been dead, but she couldn't. All she knew was that the bloated forms, some of which were still connected to medical equipment, made her break out in a cold sweat.

Forcing slow, shallow breaths, Ryder scanned the bodies and the space as they moved through the lower levels. With her connection to SAM out of range, they couldn't get any new analysis, but she could collect and store data for later. Maybe there was something they could use.

At the very least, she could track down their next of kin.

“That's odd,” Vetra commented from up ahead. Her light was shining at a ventilation shaft covered by a grate. 

“What’s odd?” Ryder questioned, frowning. 

Vetra shone her light at the corners. “Screws are on the floor, all four of them, and it's not flush with the wall anymore.”

 _How the fuck did she notice that?_ Stepping closer, Ryder peered at the grate. “Fresh paint chips scraped off,” she muttered. “Maybe someone's still alive.” 

At her wave, Drack stepped forward and grabbed the grate, tugging as the rest covered him. There was a muffled curse in a female voice as it popped off. Their lights illuminated a wiry woman with her hair in loose, dark ringlets and olive skin, sunken shadows under her eyes. “You won't take me alive,” she snarled, brandishing a metal shiv as she scooted backward.

“Hey! Stop! We're not Kett,” Ryder hissed. The woman looked at them suspiciously. “Bullshit.”

“Do you see any weird body shit? Huh?” Ryder asked, pulling off her balaclava. 

“You're not Kett,” the other woman said, lowering her knife and slumping. Easing out of the vent, she shakily found her feet. “I'm Zevin Raeka,” she introduced herself.

“You were bait,” Drack interrupted. “How many others?” When Raeka didn't answer, Drack said, “You wouldn't have just sat there while I pulled the grate off if you weren't bait. Who are you protecting?”

Raeka deflated. “I have some people,” she admitted. “We've held out as long as we could since the _Paarchero_ was taken, but we're down to the last of us. The ship’s captain, an engineer, a few others.”

 _The captain_. “If we can disconnect you from the Kett ship, can the captain get you away?” Ryder asked, feeling her heart speed up. _I can avoid another disaster_.

Fire lit in Raeka’s eyes as she said, “I'm sure he could…but those bastards took our people onto their ship. I won't leave without trying to get them back.”

Ryder glanced at her team. Drack looked mildly bored, Vetra determined. Bouncy Peebee was solemn. “Okay. We were heading there next anyway. Do what you can, but stay quiet. We don’t want to alert the enemy,” Ryder said.

With Raeka’s nod of agreement the small group made their way to where the remaining free refugees were hiding. None would stay behind once they knew the plan and Ryder felt her heart sink. _I barely got out of the last mission in one piece. How am I going to keep all of these people alive?_

Looking into their gaunt but hopeful faces, Ryder tried to see herself as they might see her: as an answer to a month of prayers. As a way out. As their one chance to rescue friends and loved ones from a gruesome fate with which Ryder herself was all too familiar.

Someone who could get them to a new home. 

_Home_. A weight settled on Ryder’s shoulders. This wasn’t about her, or even her team, anymore. She had a bigger mission, had to get the information about Archon and Meridian, had to make it back to her own home - to Reyes - but for right now these people needed her. These people looked to her for salvation.

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Ryder looked at the floor, then back up. “Okay.” 

Raeka’s people stood a little taller, their faces hardening with resolve. They knew what they’d be facing; their abandoned dead lay rotting in the next room. “Let’s go,” Ryder said, striding away. Their hope was more than she could bear just then. 

Crossing over to the other ship offered a challenge. They didn’t dare drop the gangplanks neatly piled against the rail and the gap was just large enough that they couldn’t jump it, so the whole group had to shimmy over on the thick cables holding the two vessels together. The only thing they had going for them was that the spotlights were aimed higher, at the deck itself, and not directly at the lines. Still, Ryder held her breath the entire way across, dragging herself slowly hand-over-hand, hanging upside-down with her ankles hooked across the top. 

Vetra picked the lock on the door they found leading below, with Drack and Ryder providing cover and Raeka’s team serving as lookouts. Again luck was with them, and the narrow corridor was empty. A scratched, battered plastic sign indicated crew quarters, the mess, and operations in one direction; the cargo hold and engines in another.

“This is weird,” Peebee muttered, rubbing her arms. Nobody disagreed. 

“What now?” Raeka asked. Ryder took a deep breath. “Your people will probably be in the cargo area. We need to make it to the captain’s quarters. I’m sorry we can’t help you, but we have our own mission.” The words tried to strangle her coming out, but she forced them past her lips. If she didn't figure out what Archon was after and stop him, all of this would get worse - for everyone.

Raeka didn’t seem surprised. “We’ll find our people and get back to the _Paarchero_. Stop the bastard who did this.”

“That’s the plan. Good luck, Raeka,” Ryder said, hoping nobody heard the lump in her throat. She couldn’t help feeling like she should do more for them. Maybe she could. “Here, take this.” Digging into her pack, Ryder found a spare radio and tuned it to the right frequency. “Let us know how you do.” 

With the ghost of a smile, Raeka accepted it before turning for the cargo area.

The small squad made their way toward the crew quarters. “Four of us against a shipful of Kett?” Vetra muttered.

Before Ryder could reply, Drack said, “Five of us - I count double.” His deep _heh heh heh_ lightened the mood somewhat despite the grim surroundings.

A hiss of static in her earpiece preceded Reyes’ voice. “Pathfinder, th- … more...coming...circle around…” 

“Shit. R-hello?” Ryder hissed, remembering at the last minute not to use his name. There was no reply. 

“Probably too much metal between us and him, or he’s moved out of range,” Vetra pointed out. “But it sounds like we have company.” 

Ryder started jogging down the corridor, pack jouncing on her back. “Then we’d better move.”

The long hallway was broken up by small rooms of indeterminate purpose. Entering the first needed Vetra’s lockpicking talents again, presumably because of the security terminal on the other side. “Give me a minute,” Ryder muttered. This would be tricky without SAM, but she’d been a hacker long before she had the AI.

After a tense few minutes she’d broken into the system. “Silent alarm...deactivated,” she muttered. “Security cameras, loop those, erase footage...hmmm, that’s handy.” She studied the map she’d found, noting the captain’s quarters. _Moshae said that Archon will probably keep the data drive with the info about Meridian there_. There was no mention of the project in this system - unsurprising given it was a security console, but she’d hoped they’d get lucky.

Ryder tapped on the terminal as she debated cutting the communications between the Archon’s ship and the support ships Reyes had mentioned, then decided against it. They’d definitely know someone was here and tampering with their systems if there was a sudden comms blackout. “Let’s go,” she said, completing one more task and stepping back. “I’ve locked them out but it’s pretty weak and only temporary so they’ll think it was a glitch rather than sabotage.” 

The squad kept moving and encountered nobody - until they did. 

The next door opened into a large space. Long metal tables and benches bolted to the floor suggested that this was the mess, as did a number of people eating. From the now-familiar open sores and bone spurs, they were Kett. 

“Cover!” Ryder shouted, darting behind a half-unloaded crate of rations and pulling her Eagle. Vetra and Peebee darted down. Drack didn’t bother, coolly pumping blast after blast from his shotgun as the Kett scrambled. Ryder wounded two who were busy swatting at Peebee’s attack drone, its annoying, high-pitched whirr a counterpoint to the gunshots and shouting. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Ryder exclaimed when the last was down. Vetra and Drack moved among the bodies, checking that they were all dead. A quick spurt from Vetra’s assault rifle said that they were now. “Somebody must have heard that.” There was no silencing a shotgun blast, after all. 

“We were bound to run into someone sooner or later,” Drack pointed out, completely unperturbed.

“I know, I know...let’s just keep moving and hope we don’t run into the rest of them.” Ryder suited action to words and reached for the doorknob.

The map Ryder had found led them down another corridor and into a large, open space that looked to have been carved from several smaller rooms. 

“In a ship full of weird, this is extra weird,” Peebee declared as they took in the red banners hung from the walls, each emblazoned with a clenched fist radiating lightning-bolt-shaped rays in yellow. A raised area to one side had some kind of podium. 

“No kidding,” Ryder muttered. Something felt wrong, more than usual, and she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. “Archon’s quarters are two more rooms over. Let’s -” She cut off as the door ahead opened and armed Kett poured through. Booted feet and rattling gear behind them announced the presence of more even as Ryder raised her handgun.

They were surrounded. 

She lowered the gun as twitchy Kett thugs aimed assault rifles at her head, the black metal barrels gleaming dully in the room’s low light.

“It is useless to resist,” a menacing voice dripping with arrogance announced. The Kett in front of them parted.

“Archon,” Ryder snarled, recognizing the crown of bone spurs and the missing ears and nose. She tracked him with her pistol as he approached. _Kill him now and die without securing Meridian? Or hold fire and hope we can get out of this? Reyes...I promised him I’d come back_. Paralyzed by indecision, she did nothing, said nothing. _How do we get out of this?_

“You must be Pathfinder,” Archon said, circling the small group. Nobody moved, waiting for orders from Ryder. “I’ve been building my organization for years, unnoticed and unopposed. Then you came along and started blocking my acquisition efforts.” Making a full circle, he stopped in front of Ryder, considering her as he waved his people forward. They started barking orders to drop weapons. “Such an unlikely rival. It’s almost invigorating to have one. I suppose this is a fitting end to your distraction.” 

_Son of a bitch_. “Is that what sad looks like?” she snapped. _Do something, Ryder!_

Before her body could catch up with her mind, Archon’s hand flashed out. Ryder tried to backpedal but couldn’t escape the hand that closed around her throat. Sounds of violence exploded behind her: the thumps of fists and rifle butts meeting flesh, shouted cries, the sharp crack of bone. Trapped, Ryder struggled, lashing out with fists and feet to try breaking free. 

The repeated strikes had no impact on Archon; it was as if he felt nothing. She watched, a dizzying panic washing over her, as he casually reached into a pocket and withdrew a syringe with the thickest needle she’d ever seen. 

Her lips tried to form the word “no” as Archon wrenched her head to the side and stabbed it into the back of her neck. 

“A first sample. Your journey begins now,” Archon informed her as he depressed the plunger. Ryder barely heard him, the pain of the injection creating white stars behind her eyes and tightening her throat to the point where sound couldn’t escape. When his grip opened she dropped bonelessly to the floor, unable even to think around the blinding agony spreading down her spine and through every limb.

It was the hypersensitivity of her nerves that allowed her to sense the rumbling in the deck, the cool metal shivering against her cheek. 

“Report,” she heard, the word barely making sense. Then, “Await my arrival.” The deck shivered again, harder this time, as boots stomping hard enough to create sunbursts behind her eyes moved away. 

Ryder heard Archon’s voice, a distant echo. “Save your strength, Pathfinder.” The world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than I'd planned, but it was a good cut-off point ;).
> 
> Ryder's thoughts about "home" in this chapter inspired [this little one-shot on Tumblr](https://makocartwheels.tumblr.com/post/169528335060/home-reyder-au-one-shot).


	15. Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder discovers what Meridian is and has to make another difficult choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action chapter. Brief mentions of Kett medical nastiness.

Awareness returned fitfully, harshly, filtered through stabs of pain. Groaning, Ryder tried to sit up. Her hands were numb and wouldn’t move independently. She panicked. _What did he do to me?_

“Easy, kid,” Drack’s low rumble advised. “You’re cuffed. Zip strips.”

Ryder slumped back against the deck, unable to decide if the metal’s chill was soothing or agonizing. The light of the single bulb overhead stabbed into her eyes even when she closed them. _Team. You’re the leader. Check on your team_. She heeded the voice and forced her eyes open, blinking back tears as they watered in the brightness. Someone was missing.

“Where’s Vetra?” she croaked, forcing herself to a kneeling position and swallowing against a wave of nausea. Pins and needles tingled along each limb.

“She broke free when Drack broke the arm of the guy trying to cuff her,” Peebee said. Ryder shifted on her knees to evaluate her. The small woman was bound with her hands behind her back, a bruise blossoming over her right eye. Drack had blood on his chin and his grin showed a red gap where a tooth had been knocked out. None of them had their packs or weapons, although they’d been left with their bulletproof vests. 

“Good fight,” Drack grunted. “Shame we didn’t win. Next time.” 

_Next time?_ Archon’s mutilated features swam into memory and Ryder shuddered. Her revulsion on seeing the man in the flesh had been instinctive, a deep, visceral reaction to the _wrongness_ of what he was doing not only to himself but to others. When he’d grabbed her, that revulsion had exploded into a full-blown frenzy of utter hatred blended liberally with fear before agony had washed over all. 

“Vetra’s still out there, which means she’ll either go for Archon’s quarters or make her way here,” the old mercenary pointed out, his gravel-rough voice breaking through her flashback. “They shoved us in this closet and went to go deal with something aft of the ship. Sounded like an explosion. Raeka’s jailbreak, probably.”

 _Fuck. Raeka_. They had to get out of here. She’d promised the refugee woman they’d get off this ship. _Pull yourself together, Ryder_. 

As Ryder searched the room for something they could use to cut through the zip strips, eyes flicking over everything she could see in the poor lighting, a scratching at the door made her and Peebee freeze. 

“It’s about time, Vetra,” Drack shouted at the door. 

“Yeah, yeah,” the woman’s muffled mutter replied. A faint scraping sound at the lock swiftly resulted in the door swinging open. Ryder nodded Peebee and Drack out ahead of her, rising awkwardly to follow. 

Every nerve in her body seized up at the same time, dropping her to the floor to writhe as fire raced over her skin. 

When she was able to focus on something other than simply breathing, her hands were free and Vetra’s worried features swam into view. “That fucking hurt,” Ryder gasped. 

“What the hell was that?” Peebee asked.

Steeling herself, Ryder pushed up first to a squat, then to her feet. “I don’t know. Archon injected me with something. Said my journey begins now.” Ryder rubbed her neck, dislodging a scabbed bead of blood where the needle had pierced her skin, and took a tentative step forward. Nothing happened, so she took another step, then a third. “Forget it. Let’s go find our gear.” She ignored the glances her team exchanged. One foot, then the next, fingers trailing against the wall until she was sure she wouldn’t collapse again. 

“They stacked your gear in the weird room with all the banners. Whatever Raeka’s team did, it seems to have drawn all the Kett that way,” Vetra finally said when she showed no sign of stopping. The squad chattered quietly behind her, Vetra explaining how she’d escaped and managed to dodge the hunters searching for her, but Ryder devoted all of her attention to her feet. One foot, another. A faint feeling of pins and needles assaulted her with every step.

The gear was where Vetra had said it would be, organized in neat piles behind the altar, or podium, or whatever it was. Ryder felt a twinge in her left shoulder when she shrugged her pack on, but kept her feet. A slight shudder as she holstered her Eagle, but no wracking pain. _You can do this, Ryder. Just get to Archon’s chambers_. “Let’s go,” she ordered hoarsely when they were all ready. 

On their way out, Ryder opened a channel to Raeka, hoping the other woman still had the spare radio Ryder had given her. “Raeka, come in. What’s going on?” The rumbling she’d felt under her cheek earlier had to have been an explosion of some sort. 

Raeka came back immediately. “A little diversion! Captain Hayjer and Venro need time to set more bombs. We’re going to leave these filthy slavers dead in the water when we take our people back.”

 _More bombs?_ So there had been one already. “Stay safe,” Ryder said. Not that any of them could, given where they were, but she didn’t know what else to say. 

The lights were out in the next section, forcing the team to switch to gun lamps. The beams bounced eerily off the walls of the metal hull. Cold radiated through them, reaching Ryder despite her heavy winter coat. 

“This is Raeka,” the woman’s voice said suddenly, breaking into Ryder’s grouchy musings on her own discomfort. “Some of our people are still alive. Captain Hayjer, what’s your status?” 

Hayjer’s reply was whispered and Ryder hoped he wasn’t going to get himself caught. They would be hard-pressed to get the intel on Meridian and stage a rescue. “The explosives are primed and ready.”

“We’re almost to Archon’s chamber, I think. Stand by,” Ryder said quietly. No Kett had reappeared, but that didn’t mean they had all gone over to Raeka’s end of the ship. 

The next room, the one her map said was immediately adjacent to Archon’s quarters, was an absolute freak show of horrors. Mutilated bodies were laid out on long metal tables. Floor-to-ceiling tanks filled with a viscous liquid were faintly illuminated by a pale green light. The twisted forms within, caught in some metamorphosis between human and whatever the Kett thought they were creating, would haunt Ryder’s dreams. Swallowing past her rising gorge, she led the team through the chamber.

She had another attack as they reached the door to Archon’s chambers. When it passed, she pulled her tablet and portable keyboard out, gasping as she ignored the concerned looks of her squad. All that mattered now was that they got in and found the clues that would take them to Meridian. They could figure out what she’d been injected with after they got the information they needed and escaped this godsforsaken ship.

The electronic lock chirped acceptance of her hack and the door slid open to reveal spacious accommodations cluttered with pieces of tech. As much junk as there was, it was all clearly organized in a way Ryder couldn’t begin to fathom. 

Sighing in annoyance, Ryder stomped into the room and started scanning all of it. Something might provide a clue later. _Or maybe it’s all just junk_ , she thought. Archon appeared to be obsessed with anything related to any major government, if the stamps and seals on the various objects gave any indication. _Where did this shit even come from? Why is he collecting it?_

“Captain Hayjer, this is Ryder,” she said into her earpiece. “We’ve reached Archon’s sanctum.”

“Give the word and we’ll set off the explosives. Should disable the engines,” the captain replied. _Good. No pursuit._

A little looking turned up a computer tucked behind the bunk at the back of the room, next to a series of portholes that looked out over the starlit waters of the sea. “Watch the door. No idea how good the security will be on this,” Ryder ordered the team. They knew what they were about and didn’t need her to tell them, but had been hovering since her first collapse. She needed room to breathe if she was going to do this. 

Pulling out a palm-sized portable data drive, she connected it and activated a stripped-down, offline version of SAM to help her break the impressively thorough security. Ryder couldn’t remember the last time she’d encountered anything so heavily firewalled, encrypted, and trapped. It was government-grade or better. Military, maybe. 

Fortunately, the day she’d spent breaking into the data drive Moshae had given her had been useful in more ways than one. She’d used the experience to improve SAM’s hacking support capabilities and loaded all of those subroutines onto this drive. It was harder than she’d expected, but even a mini-AI was a big step up.

“What the hell is on this?” Ryder muttered, quickly shaking hands that had started trembling before returning them to the keyboard. _No, not another fit. I need to break this!_

Focus. She needed to focus on the task at hand. If she couldn't figure out whether there was something about Meridian on this computer, all of this was for nothing.

She straightened into a stretch, then hunched over the small keyboard again with renewed determination. Ryder tried every trick she knew to make her way through lines of code and firewalls, uncovering hidden traps and disarming each.

Meanwhile, her team waited with varying degrees of impatience, judging by the sounds of shifting behind her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, then rolled down her face. Ryder didn’t dare lift her hands from the keyboard again, needing all of her attention on her hack. It would have been easier, much easier, with SAM fully up and running, but the miniaturized offline version was helping immensely.

“Come on, come on,” Ryder whispered to herself. She was close; she could feel it. 

Finally, the computer yielded. Her usual victory celebration was lost in another seizure a moment after she hissed, “Yes!”, and she toppled from the chair. 

This time it was Peebee looking down at her with worried eyes when she opened her own. “Fuck. This is not good,” Ryder groaned, pushing herself up. _What the hell did he inject me with?_

“We need to get you off this ship and to a doctor, kid,” Drack rumbled from the door. “Did you get it?” 

Sliding back into the chair and shaking the numbness from her fingers again, Ryder accessed the computer. There were a number of files neatly arranged in folders, but one label stuck out. “Maybe...Project 54,” she murmured. 

When she clicked on it a pop-up opened, demanding a password and warning that more than three attempts would cause it to be destroyed. _Well that doesn’t sound good_. She closed it to see what else was on the computer, not wanting to be too hasty or miss anything else of importance.

“Oh, no,” she groaned as she skimmed through one of the unencrypted records. 

“What now?” Vetra hissed from the door.

Slumping, Ryder closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “I just found several Nakmors listed among the prisoners.” 

Drank erupted in outrage. “ _What?_ I knew some of the family had gone missing but they weren't anywhere near here when they were taken. Are you sure?”

Ryder read aloud the names in the prisoner manifest she'd stumbled over, wondering why he hadn’t said anything about it before now. 

“That's them. Ryder, we have to take them with us,” Drack insisted.

Blinking through her sudden fatigue, Ryder muttered, “I know.” _And Raeka and her team, and their refugees…how the fuck are we going to get this many people off of this ship? I'm a hacker, not the fucking navy!_

Time was running out either way. Ryder chewed her lip and went back to the Project 54 folder, studying it with narrowed eyes. Something told her that “Meridian” would be the password, but it shouldn’t be that easy. Surely someone would have swapped in letters for numbers, or added symbols, or used a password generator to come up with a random string of letters, numbers, and symbols. Something that would take her a week to hack once they got off this bloody ship.

That would be the smart thing, anyway. But if it was called Project 54, why would Moshae have called it Meridian?

She hissed as she tasted blood, having bit her lip a little too hard. “Here goes nothing,” Ryder muttered, typing “M-E-R-I-D-I-A-N” into the input box. Knocking her head for luck, she stabbed her index finger down on the Enter key.

It took her a moment to comprehend her success. “It’s Meridian,” she said stupidly. Moshae hadn’t given her much to go on when she described the project and gave Ryder the data drive, but she’d mentioned “broken pieces of tech, strings of numbers, maps” and said Archon’s interest had to do with genetic experiments.

Ryder wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but the location of a bunker in what appeared to be northern France was not it.

Shaking off the disorientation of surprise, she hurriedly transferred everything Archon’s computer held about Meridian to her own data drive. “Coordinates secured,” she breathed, unable to believe her own luck. If the government or organization that owned this bunker was this fucking stupid, it was no wonder the world was going to shit.

“So that’s what you’re after.”

Archon’s voice ringing out over a loudspeaker sent ice running down Ryder’s spine. _Fuck fuck fuck, there must be hidden cameras_ , Ryder though, chest tightening. Reyes would have thought to look but she hadn’t, despite how easy it had been to reach this room after Vetra freed them from the closet. If Archon had a remote connection to this computer, he would be able to access everything she just had.

Ryder’s head spun as she realized they’d been set up. Archon hadn’t known about the project’s alternate name - hadn’t known the password - and she’d just handed him everything with her impatience and inexperience.

“There’s more to that project than you know and I will not allow you to defile it. Meridian is mine. I’ve tolerated you long enough. Once your vessels are destroyed you will be stranded here.” 

_Vessels, plural? Oh no, Reyes. Has he caught Reyes?_ He’d been at the edge of radio range the last time he’d attempted contact, but it had sounded like there were other ships in the area. Kett ships.

“Hayjer, blow the bombs!” she shouted into her radio. 

The captain confirmed and immediately the ship rocked. Lights flickered and went out, replaced by the orange glow of emergency strips. 

“Let’s go!” she ordered the squad, face burning in shame as she packed up her kit and strode from the room. _How could I have been so fucking dumb? And if his people caught Reyes...no, they didn’t, don’t think of that. Just get back to him._

Ryder was still kicking herself when they ran into the Kett heavies. The numbness in her limbs was getting worse, making it difficult to aim her pistol, but she kept the gun up with sheer will. Drack ended the fight with a grenade that buckled the bulkheads. A screw popped and a rivulet of water leaked in. 

“Are you _trying_ to get an up-close look at the English Channel?” Peebee snarled when their ears had stopped ringing.

Drack plowed forward. “I’m _trying_ to get to my family. Ryder, they’re with the other prisoners?” 

Shaking her head to clear the residual dizziness, Ryder confirmed that they were. 

As the team hurried to retrace their steps toward the middle of the ship, the radio crackled. “Ryder, it’s Raeka. I’m pinned down. Don’t think I’m going to make it.”

Ryder’s stomach knotted even more tightly than it already was. “Where are you?” 

“Near holding cells where they’re keeping several of my people. They’re still alive. I ordered Captain Hayjer and the rest of our people back to the _Paarchero_.” She read off the cell block number and Ryder’s heart sank. Based on the map she’d pulled up to find Drack’s family, they were at the far aft portion of the ship in the deepest cell blocks - as far as they could be from the Nakmors. 

“You should be with him!” Ryder snapped, unwontedly harsh as she forced her heavy feet to a quicker pace.

Raeka sounded tiredly apologetic in her reply. “I couldn’t leave my people. I had to try. And now...I think it’s over. Farewell. Raeka out.”

“Damn it!” Ryder slammed a fist against the nearest bulkhead. 

Another explosion rocked the ship and everything shuddered as an alarm sounded farther down the corridor. Whatever Hayjer had done, it would not allow them time to save both the Nakmors and Raeka. There was Reyes to think about as well - the longer they stayed aboard Archon’s ship, the faster the likelihood of his being caught increased. 

Someone would have to be left behind.

Deciding to blow the Edinburgh facility had been hard, but every one of those people had been faceless and nameless to her. They were an abstract, an idea of suffering that she had no intimate reference for.

That wasn’t the case here. She either had to tell Drack they were leaving his family behind, or tell Raeka they were leaving her behind. 

“We can’t save them all,” Vetra said in clipped tones.

“I know,” Ryder replied, equally sharp as the weight of this new decision settled on her. It would haunt her forever, but Drack was like the grandfather she’d never known. “Reload. We’re going after the Nakmors.”

Drack surged ahead. “Thanks, Ryder,” he said, slamming more rounds home into his shotgun.

Another hard fight awaited them when they got to the cell blocks. Ryder, exhausted and trembling from another fit, used a key swiped from a dead guard to unlock the cells while the rest of her squad kept the Kett pinned down. 

Peebee sowed chaos with her explosive spider bots. Drack’s shotgun roared. Vetra’s assault rifle made a steady _rat-tat-tat_ , the short, even bursts anchoring Ryder even as the noise amplified a headache that threatened to split her head open.

A lull in the cacophony made her look up from the last door. All of the Kett were down. With the last Nakmor free and stumbling out of his cell, Ryder called hoarsely, “Let’s move! Move!” 

They’d made it topside when agony lanced up her spine and every nerve stopped working at once. She dropped to the deck, unable to stop the black nothingness of unconsciousness from rolling over her for the second time that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all ready for the next chapter because you probably recall an important plot event on the Archon's ship in the game which has not yet happened in this story...


	16. Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes deals with the immediate effects of the injection Archon gave Ryder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the warnings: emotional distress / Dark!Reyes, medical procedures (which may be iffy, feel free to kindly call me out because I relied on the interwebs for research), character death, one-line mention of abuse.

Reyes had just gotten back to Archon’s ship, having used every trick he knew to slip his pursuers, when a clattering overhead signalled someone coming down the ladder closest to the _Paarchero_. “That boat better be under me when I get down there!” Drack’s gravelly tones shouted over the muted boom of another explosion. 

_Good thing I guessed correctly, then_. It hadn’t been easy to find the ladder in the dark - and there was more than one on a ship this size. Drack had only said, “the one closest to the other ship” when he radioed.

It was difficult to tell in the dark, but Reyes thought he was carrying something bigger than the pack he went up with. His stomach clenched as he realised it was human-sized.

The extra bulk on the big man’s shoulder turned out to be an unconscious Ryder.

“What the fuck happened?” Reyes snarled, moving to help. 

With his help, Drack slung Ryder’s limp form to the deck, easing her down with a little unsteadiness as the small boat rocked in the choppy waters. “Archon injected her with something.” 

“ _He what?_ ” Reyes struggled to focus, felt the slide into Anubis hit him like a rockfall. Churning fear turned to ice in his gut. Kneeling, he felt for a pulse. It was there, but too fast. 

As he prepared to help the next person onto the boat after him, Drack added, “Probably has to do with the seizures.” 

The rockslide hit bottom and crashed through the other side as Anubis pulled out a small torch and clicked it on. Ryder was pale, her tawny skin ashen, and crimson smears of blood marked her nose, ears, and eyes. The puffs her breath made in the frigid air were small and faint. Rage, hot and thick as molten lava, oozed through him, igniting his blood. Someone had hurt her, badly, with intent deeper and darker than that which drove a person to kill. 

“Easy, pup,” Drack cautioned, glancing at him as Peebee slipped down the last rung and thumped into the boat. Steadying her, the old man turned back to watch for Vetra. “We’ll take her to Morda’s family doctor and sort it out.” 

_Morda_. Anubis hadn’t left things on the best terms with the woman when last they met, having stolen a kill she deemed hers, but he’d do anything, risk anything, to care for Ryder.

“I promised her father,” Drack growled in a low voice. “I know how much she means to you, but I owe a debt. We’ll sort it out with Morda.” Peebee glanced between them from under heavy eyelids, head hanging, but said nothing.

Biting off a curse, Anubis dug under the nearest bench for an emergency pack and felt for the large, flat packet that would contain a thermal blanket. The silvery mylar seemed too impossibly thin to help anyone, but he carefully tucked it around Ryder’s shivering form. “Hold on,” he whispered, hoping his prayer would be covered by the clattering of Vetra coming down the ladder.

When Vetra was in the boat and Ryder as secure and comfortable as he could make her, Reyes stepped to the controls and eased them away. He wanted to get them to shore quickly, but here, now, stealth would serve better than speed. 

The _Paarchero_ started a slow turn away from Archon's ship and pointed its nose toward the coast as more explosions rumbled, too low and deep underwater to hear but easy to feel through the walls of their little boat. 

As soon as they were in the shadow of the larger refugee vessel, Anubis hauled back on the throttle and sent the motorboat roaring in the direction of the harbour. Cries of protest came from behind him as his passengers were rocked by the sudden acceleration, but if Anubis knew anything, it was bodies. 

From what he'd seen, Ryder didn't have much longer before hers would fail.

***

Bain Massani was waiting at the dock, as Anubis had paid him to do the night before. “Get rid of the boat. Make sure nothing can be traced to us. I don't care how,” Anubis snapped, carefully gathering Ryder into his arms.

“Who's the little duck?” Massani asked, nosy as ever. Anubis leveled a glare at the other man as he leapt to the stony beach. Ryder groaned as he landed. 

“Get rid of the boat,” Anubis repeated. “If anyone tries to follow us, kill them. No witnesses,” Massani was a talker, the man's one failing as a mercenary. When it came down to it, Anubis trusted no-one other than himself to keep Ryder - and her hacker identity as Pathfinder - safe. Massani raised his hands in an exaggerated gesture, turning to help Peebee out as Drack and Vetra vaulted over the side. 

Kallo was waiting with the Nomad, tucked into a side street with the Land Rover behind. Anubis eased Ryder into the back seat of the Nomad and tossed the Land Rover's key fob to Drack before sliding in next to her. “You know where this clinic is?” he barked at Kallo.

The level-headed driver raised an eyebrow at his tone. “Yes.”

“Drive,” Anubis ordered. He met Kallo’s eyes in the rearview mirror, watched the thin man’s large Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed a protest. Then he was holding onto an overhead grip with one hand and steadying Ryder with the other as the Nomad rocketed into the night, peeling around the corner without losing either speed or traction. 

_I need to pay him more_ , Anubis thought absently - absurdly, even, given the situation - running a lock of soft blue hair through his fingers. His best driver had clearly done his homework, avoiding the traffic cams Reyes knew about from his previous visits to Portland Harbour. They were pulling up to a nondescript warehouse not far from the shore before Anubis had time to figure out where they were going, and then it didn't matter. 

Kallo idled the motor while Anubis got Ryder out of the vehicle, then sped away into the night. Drack pulled up with the Land Rover as Anubis was shouldering one of the large, heavy doors open.

Morda waited on the other side.

The hard woman was just as tall and wide as he remembered, bigger even than him, and possibly even more intimidating in her maturity. Anubis didn't give a centimetre of ground. “She needs help,” he said in a low growl, hefting Ryder slightly.

“I see that,” Morda said with an evaluating glance, her gaze lingering on the dried blood crusting alongside Ryder's nose. “It'll cost you. And you already owe me, little hitman.”

Anubis bristled. He owed _no-one_. Ever. Not even Morda, and not even for a stolen kill.

The door creaked behind them and Anubis moved to put his back to the wall before he was conscious of doing so. Drack shut the door behind him, looking between Anubis and Morda with a neutral expression. _Why are all the Nakmors so bloody big?_ He had even less room to move now, his arms were full of unconscious Ryder, and he realised that he had no idea which side Drack would take if this came down to a fight.

 _Smart, be smart, Vidal_ , he cautioned himself, holding Ryder tighter. _Her life depends on it_. “Whatever you want,” he gritted out. He needed a resolution, _now_ , and he could always find a way out later. He always did.

Morda’s heavy blonde brows lifted. “Someone finally tamed the jackal,” she mocked in deep, sarcastic tones. Anubis bristled again, snarling but holding his tongue. Nodding thoughtfully, Morda jerked her head in a gesture for him to follow and lead the way down the dank corridor.

A full, impressively-supplied field clinic waited behind heavy plastic drapes in a large room. Lengthening his stride, Anubis passed the large woman and gently set Ryder on the high, sheet-draped bed in the centre.

She started seizing almost immediately.

It was one thing to hear of it from Drack and another to see it. Anubis swore viciously in Spanish, not even sure what he was saying as he stood helplessly, waiting for her to ride it out. “ _Dónde está el médico?_ ” he growled, repeating himself in English when both Nakmors stared at him blankly.

Another big man slid through the plastic curtains, his gloves making a smart snap as he pulled them on. Anubis had eyes only for Ryder as Drack switched to - was that German? - gesturing at Ryder and making a jabbing motion at the back of his own neck. 

The seizure stopped almost as suddenly as it had begun and the doctor examined the bruise visible on the back of Ryder's neck after turning her onto her side. “I need a blood sample,” he said gruffly. 

Anubis didn't know what to do. His skills lay in taking life, not saving it. For the first time since he'd left his father's house, he felt pure desperation wash over him in a wave.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he spun, slamming Vetra to the wall by her wrist and throat. He released her even as Drack warned, “Steady, runt,” spreading his hands in apology but unable to speak the words around the tightness in his own throat. He'd been so focused on Ryder that he'd missed her entering with Peebee and been surprised. _You're getting sloppy_ , a savage voice taunted him. _This is why there aren't many old hitmen_.

Rubbing her neck and eyeing him cautiously, Vetra rasped, “You can't do anything right now. Let the doctor work.”

Anubis closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. Control, he needed to find control. Coldness. _Hot-headed hitmen don't grow old_ , the voice reminded him again. _Your woman is a liability. She makes you reactive. Walk away before she gets you killed. You work alone. You're a survivor, remember?_

It had been a long, _long_ time since he shoved that voice in a box with the intention of never listening to it again. The last time he had, he'd killed someone who hadn't deserved it and hadn't had a contract out for them. 

If it was back, he was walking a knife's edge.

 _Callate!_ he snarled back at it. The pressure behind his eyes faded and he opened both them and his fists, realising for the first time that he'd closed them. The doctor was studiously focusing on setting up machines and monitors. Vetra and Drack were watching him warily, Peebee with a mixture of curiosity and excited fear that he could almost taste on the air with senses heightened by the need to _do something_.

“What'd I miss?” Massani drawled, ducking into the space.

“Nothing,” Vetra said quickly as Peebee's mouth opened. “The doc is looking at…his patient,” she said carefully. 

_Clever girl_ , Anubis thought, nodding to her. He wanted to keep the whole deal as anonymous as possible.

“What is…?” the doctor murmured wonderingly. Everyone turned to where he was examining a slide under a small microscope, a half-full syringe of blood next to him on the table. He looked up to see six gazes of varying intensity waiting for him to explain.

Blinking in surprise, he asked slowly, “I don't suppose any of you have experience with engineering or robotics?”

“Oh!” Peebee perked up immediately and bounded over to the table to peer into the microscope. “The fuck?” she muttered after a moment.

“Is that what I think it is?” the doctor asked in his thick accent. “I have only seen such a thing in texts.”

“Hmm…does this thing zoom in any closer?” Peebee asked, fiddling with the device. The doctor slapped her hand away and adjusted it with a reverence suggesting a favorite tool. The two of them peered through it again, muttering.

Anubis felt his patience snap like a metal thread. “Well?” he demanded. “What the fuck is wrong with her?”

Peebee and the doctor exchanged glances, and the big man shrugged and waved a hand for her to speak. “Nanites,” she replied, solemnity and excitement warring in her features. “Like the teeny-tiniest robots you could imagine. There are some in her bloodstream, more advanced than any I've ever heard of, all just squiggling around. They're incredible!” At Anubis’ steady glare, she added, “Well. They'd be more incredible if they weren't in her, maybe.”

“What do they do, kid?” Drack prompted. “How do we get them out?”

Peebee's face blanked. “Ummm...I have no idea what they do. Is her AI thing back in range?”

 _SAM. Of course_. Finally, something Anubis could do; he'd been so bloody afraid for Ryder that he hadn't stopped to think. _You’ve been out of the game too long if you aren’t thinking. You’re a dead man, and your lack of focus is going to kill your woman too_ , taunted the voice. Pushing it aside again, he dug the small earpiece from the pocket he'd tucked it in when Ryder had handed it over for safekeeping. Talking to SAM in front of Massani and Morda wasn't ideal, but he could always kill them later if push came to shove.

“SAM,” he barked when it was in his ear.

“Hello, Reyes. Where is Pathfinder? She is unwell. Our connection was temporarily severed and now her biometric readings are highly unusual.”

“I know, SAM. I need you to tell me what's wrong. I'm putting you on speaker so the doctor here can hear you,” Anubis replied, linking the earpiece to his phone. 

“Hello,” SAM greeted the room, its calm, synthetic tones seeming somehow inappropriate for the seriousness of the situation. “My counterpart is experiencing an attack on her nervous system. The cause is unknown to me. It appears to be attempting to bind to nerve receptors.”

“They're nanites, SAM,” Peebee interjected. The AI made no reply.

Anubis’ stomach roiled. Tiny robots were attempting to bind with Ryder's nervous system? To what purpose?

They could figure that out later. “How do we get them out of her?” he demanded. 

“My research indicates that medical-grade nanites will carry out their designated task until it is complete or the subject is deceased,” SAM informed them after another moment.

Silence fell over the room as they looked at each other, broken only by the beeping heart monitor. Blood drained from more than one face, and Anubis locked his knees to keep from swaying. _This isn't happening_.

“So we either wait and see what some sci-fi shit injected into the little duck does, or we kill her?” Massani asked bluntly.

“Yes,” SAM said, equally direct.

“Nope. I'm out. This job has passed from interesting to weird. Anubis, you need someone killed, you know where to find me.” The mercenary shouldered his way through the plastic.

“I need to make sure my people know about this and check on those you recovered from that ship,” Morda said gravely. “If they have also been injected…” she trailed off and followed Massani out.

Drack, Vetra, and Peebee stared at Anubis, and he stared back. Drack glanced away to glare disapprovingly at Massani's back. Vetra had gone pale; she'd always been exceedingly wary of him and would have heard the stories of Anubis from her illicit odd jobs and under-the-table work. Peebee’s brows furrowed as she tried to decipher the reactions of the others.

Anubis shook off his annoyance at Massani's use of his _other_ name and stepped to the bed. Waiting to see what Archon's injection would do wasn't an option. But was killing her any better? What would she want?

Brushing a stray lock of hair from Ryder's face, Anubis asked softly, “There are no other options?” SAM replied with a negative. 

“How?” He’d sent plenty of people on their way. Most had gone easy; he didn't enjoy torture. That wasn't to say some hadn't gone hard, whether through accident or design. Those last days before he'd chosen to pursue a new life...Anubis shuddered and shook his head to clear the ghosts. He’d had a code until it had started slipping. 

If it had to be this way, he didn't want the hard options for Ryder. The love of his life deserved better. She always had, even if she rarely demanded it. Aside from that, he'd seen enough hard deaths to haunt his nightmares for a lifetime without adding hers to it.

“Drugs or other chemical methods would need to be perfectly measured or we would have to counteract their effects as well as those of these...nanites. Defibrillation would work better and might help deactivate them,” the doctor answered after a minute. “It will not be pleasant and it does not agree with my oath. But if stopping the girl's heart saves her life…” he shrugged, a helpless gesture. “Which is the lesser of two evils? Which offers the best outcome for the patient?”

Anubis leaned on the bed, gripping the edge of it. Easy was out then, and if they were going to resuscitate her, none if his methods would work. They were all intentionally quite final. “And then what? How do we get the nanites out? How do we bring her back?”

Nobody spoke. “ _How?_ ” he repeated harshly. Vetra jumped, still looking like she'd just learned the bogeyman was real and waiting to eat her.

Peebee started bouncing on her feet, then pacing in the way she did when she was wrestling with a tough problem in her lab at Collective. “I mean if she's…if she's dead...then the nanites won't have a mission. They should deactivate. Then we get her going again and filter the blood somehow?”

The doctor, whose name Anubis realised he didn't know or couldn't remember if he'd been told, muttered about hemofiltration machines and dialysis before shuffling out of the plastic-draped space.

The whole plan was a clusterfuck of hopes and maybes and medical bullshit. By all rights, it shouldn't work. It probably wouldn't. And if it didn't, Anubis would be alone in the world again, but moreso than he ever had been before. He knew now what it was not to be.

He pushed the maudlin thoughts aside. Ryder needed him strong, not dwelling on dark what-ifs.

Consent. He needed Ryder's consent. They hadn't discussed what to do in a situation like this, and he'd never been able to predict her as well as he'd like. It was part of what made her attractive, but it also made certain things difficult.

Things like knowing if he should give the order to stop her heart.

The world seemed to spin, then narrow. His breath was coming too quickly and he held it, trying to take back control.

Cupping her face in his hands, Anubis called, “Laz.” When she didn't respond, he tried again more sharply, then once more. Her lashes finally fluttered when he shook her shoulders.

“Reyes?” she asked in a thready, barely-there voice before she focused on his face and smiled lopsidedly. “No. You. It's bad then?” Her eyes screwed shut and she hissed, shaking. “Oooooh. Everything _hurts_. I guess it’s bad.”

Another seizure struck her suddenly and he swore, clenching his fists helplessly as she jerked and groaned. The doctor, approaching with the defibrillator, rushed to join Anubis. _We don't have time for this, but I can’t just take her life. Not hers_. 

Nobody said nothing until it had passed. The doctor turned her to her side and tipped her head back to check her breathing. After a few moments, he nodded and allowed her to roll to her back. Her eyes closed.

“Lazuli,” Anubis snapped, unintentionally brusque as he forced himself to stay distant. Seeing her like this was taking pieces out of his chest and shattering them.

She frowned; she didn't like it when he spoke roughly to her. “Laz,” he said more gently. “ _Mírame, mi reina_.” He waited until her eyes opened and refocused on him, until he was sure he had her attention. “We need -” 

Something was lodged in his throat and he coughed. “We need to stop your heart.” He watched her eyes fill with fear and denial, the same as he'd seen in the eyes of so many of his victims when they realised the end was coming. The voice in his head was silent but for a tense, panting anticipation. 

Brushing flakes of dried blood from her cheek, he gathered himself. _Cold. Don't lose yourself in emotion now. You're in charge. Get consent, make the call_.

After all, he had sworn to himself he'd do whatever it took to keep her safe. 

He just hadn't reckoned on the price of that promise being so high.

Ryder still hadn't answered, her turquoise gaze dulled by the pain that tightened her features. Anubis started to explain again but she interrupted. “It's the only way?” 

He nodded once, more a jerk of the head than anything else. Maybe there were others, but he could read her body even if he couldn't guess her mind. Exhaustion and agony screamed in the tenseness of her form and the trembling in her limbs. The seizures had come closer together between fleeing Archon's ship and now.

They were out of time.

The muscles at the corners of Ryder's jaw bunched and her brow lowered. It was the muley look she got when she was going to be stubborn. _Don't fight me, not now, I promised to keep you safe -_

“Do it,” she breathed. That was it. No questions. No hesitation. She trusted him that much. Him, a former hitman, entrusted with not just when her life, but with her death.

It was almost enough to shatter the wall keeping Reyes at bay and Anubis rational. The two halves of himself chased each other, warring until Anubis won. But even Anubis had grown fond of Ryder. More than fond.

Before thoughts of caution and discovery could stop him, Anubis found himself kissing her, one hand gripping the back of her neck and the other pressing into the bed for balance. At her whimper, he nearly let go, even as his blood thrilled at the faint sound. The weak clasp of her hand on his shoulder and the opening of her mouth for his tongue kept him where he was for a few moments longer, ignoring the startled gasp from one of her team, until Ryder's hand slipped away.

She was panting when he broke the kiss, cheeks flushed and eyes bright even as trembling gave way to full-blown shaking. “Masochist,” he whispered, heart clenching.

“You love it,” she sassed breathily, reminding him of the night she'd come home from Edinburgh, “and I love you.”

Movement in Anubis’ peripheral vision was the doctor, wheeling a large cart with what must have been the blood filtering machine. He nodded solemnly at Anubis, saying, “We need to remove all the clothing and anything metallic from her torso.”

Hands that had held a gun steady in every situation betrayed Anubis with trembling now as he gently eased Ryder out of her jacket, top, and bra. Leaning over for one last quick kiss on her forehead, Anubis growled “Come. Back.” 

A floodgate of tears opened and ran down Ryder's face; it was all Anubis could do not to either join her or smash every piece of equipment in the room. 

“You need to stand clear,” the doctor warned sternly. “You cannot touch her.” Shifting his gaze to Ryder, he said, “We may not be able to resuscitate you. If we do, the complications include brain damage and you may be mentally or physically disabled for life. It will also hurt. You give consent for this?”

Glancing at Anubis, Ryder swallowed hard. “Yes.” The doctor nodded, mouth thinning into a grim line.

“Clear!” he barked, applying the paddles and administering a jolt. Ryder arched up, screaming. Anubis forced himself to watch, fingernails biting into his palms. Someone retched behind him and the sound of rustling plastic announced a departure. 

When the paddles came away, Ryder groaned and writhed. Anubis closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe and gathering his strength. She was a fighter, always had been, but it was working against her now. “Let go, _mi reina_. Don't fight it. Let. Go. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise.”

Sobbing, Ryder nodded. The doctor, now faintly green, applied the paddles again. “Clear,” he said in a strangled voice. 

“ _Let go!_ ” Anubis shouted as Ryder arched up again. Something hot and wet slid down his cheek and he scrubbed at his face. He wouldn't look away. He'd failed to keep her safe, and this was the cost.

He had to watch her die.

This time, she did.

Anubis had spent more than five years killing people. He always knew the moment they surrendered. Ryder's eyes fell on him one last time before going blank, the rasp of one last breath barely audible as the heartrate monitor gave a solid, unending beep. 

The doctor sprang into action immediately, pumping Ryder's chest to begin CPR. Anubis couldn't make his limbs work, couldn't move toward her. Nothing existed but Ryder's lifeless turquoise eyes, still looking at him, and the recriminating voice in his head.

_See? You've gotten her killed. Did you really think you could escape death? Karma? You thought you could just walk away from that life with blood on your hands and never pay the price for the lives you stole?_

“Somebody help me with her!” the doctor snapped, breaking the stream of accusations. “I am assuming these little robots will not all die at once. At this temperature, we have, at most, three minutes before irreversible brain damage sets in.”

Anubis shook himself off and started to move forward. She might be dead, but she might come back as well. She _would_ come back. He had to believe it. It was the only thing keeping the red haze hovering at the edges of his vision from washing over him. 

The last time that had happened, he couldn't remember a chunk of time. There was only the blood splashed to his elbows, sticky and tight where it had started drying on his arms. Two people had died instead of the one he'd been contracted for. The recording he'd set up had had the information his client had wanted, but Reyes had only the mangled bodies at his feet to tell him what he'd done when he'd come back to himself.

As he stepped forward in a daze, a heavy hand caught his arm. Anubis lashed out reflexively, intending to break the wrist the hand was attached to and put whoever it was on the floor. Had it been anyone other than Drack, he might have succeeded.

“Knock it off, pup,” the mercenary snarled, catching Anubis’ hand. “Vetra, help the doc.” As Vetra darted forward to assist with the oxygen pump and trade off on chest compressions, Drack sucker-punched Anubis in the gut and dragged him outside the plastic barrier with an iron grip on the back of his neck. The surprise of it broke Anubis’ hold, leaving Reyes alone in his head with the accusing voice.

 _Now you're dead. Your woman's death distracted you, and now you're dead. Not that you don't deserve it._

Coughing, Reyes fought to catch his breath, squaring up to fight the bigger man. He had to help Ryder; he owed her that after failing to keep her safe. 

Drack leaned against the wall, seemingly ignoring him as he looked toward the sheet plastic. “I know what you're thinking. I know why you're thinking it. But this is not on you, runt. You can't accept that the girl is free to do what she needs to do and then try to own the consequences for her.”

Reyes straightened and turned to go back inside. He didn't have time for a lecture and had to see his _pajarillo_. He didn't know how to save a life, but surely he could do _something_. At the very least, he needed to be there when she came back. He'd promised. Nothing else mattered now.

The big man moved faster than should have been possible for someone of his bulk, smashing Reyes back against the wall and barking, “Hey!” 

Reyes fought, but at close quarters Drack’s size gave him a dramatic advantage. 

“You did your part,” Drack said when Reyes gave up and raised his hands, panting. He could see her faster if he let Drack have his way for a moment.

“You got her here and you helped her face what was coming. Don't try to own what's not yours, or you lessen her. If she doesn't come back from this, her memory deserves better.”

The old man's words hit Reyes as hard as the punch to the gut had. He'd picked a fight with Ryder once, insisting that she deserved better, trying to use it as a reason to run from her before his feelings deepened. Reyes nodded, swallowing hard. It was hard to admit, but Drack was right.

With a satisfied grunt, Drack let him go and they re-entered the operating space. Peebee slipped in behind them a few seconds later, hugging herself and looking pale. The doctor looked up from where he was charging the defibrillator paddles long enough to say, “Clear!” before setting them to Ryder's bare chest and flank.

Reyes watched her still form remain lifeless, folding his arms tightly. “ _Venga, mi amor_ ,” he whispered, putting every ounce of love and need into the prayer. “ _Venga. Te necesito._ ”

The second jolt failed.

Adjusting a dial, the doctor tried once more. Ryder’s still body jerked more powerfully than the last time.

Jerked...and coughed.

“Laz!” Reyes exclaimed, taking a step to go to her. The doctor threw up a hand in warning as Drack got a grip on his shirt. 

Ryder coughed, gagging and choking on the air she dragged into her lungs. Turning her on her side, the doctor tilted her head back and pressed a finger to her neck. “Pulse is good. What is your name, girl?” He repeated it when she didn't answer.

“It's Lazuli Sara fucking Ryder,” the love of his life croaked once she'd caught her breath. " _Definitely_ not 'girl’.” Pushing herself weakly onto her back, she gasped, “Reyes?”

He was already moving, having pulled free of Drack’s grasp. “I'm here.” Ryder reached for him as he reached for her, clutching his wrist as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I'm here. How are you feeling?”

“Dying sucks,” she complained in a hoarse whisper. It was an answer so typical of her that Reyes couldn't help a relieved chuckle.

“We are not done,” the doctor interrupted. “I need to draw more blood to compare the nanite activity. If they appear inactive, you will undergo hemofiltration for the next eight hours.”

“As long as Reyes can stay and I don't have to die again, knock yourself out. Bonus points if I can sleep,” she rasped, extending the arm on the side away from him.

Reyes waited until the blood draw showed inactive nanites and SAM confirmed no further attacks on her before system before he allowed himself to feel relief. They still had to get the fucking things out of her system, but the worst was over.

With the hemofiltration system up and running, Reyes climbed into the bed next to Ryder, glaring murder at the doctor's protests before settling behind her. Footsteps and rustling plastic followed by silence devoid of any breathing other than theirs told him that they were alone. 

Carefully avoiding her left arm, extended and pierced by the two filtration needles, Reyes pulled the blanket over them both. As he embraced her and buried his face in her neck, breathing in the smell of her under the scents of blood and antiseptic, something broke in his chest. Reyes ground his teeth, determined to keep the feeling in, but she squeezed his arm with her free hand. “Let go,” she whispered. 

He resisted, but she squeezed again. Even then he held it in, taking slow, deep breaths past the thickness in his throat.

It was the lullaby that undid him.

Reyes hadn't realised that Ryder had ever heard him humming it to her. He only did it when she was asleep, or so he'd thought. She was off-key in places, but it was familiar enough that the stress and fear of the last few hours, the desperation of almost losing her, smashed through his reserve.

For the first time since his mother died, Reyes let go and allowed himself to feel the full extent of the emotion threatening to overwhelm him.

Back then, it had gotten him a solid beating from his father, who'd insisted that real men don't cry. Now, Ryder just stroked his arm, her own sniffles breaking the rhythm of the lullaby, her chest heaving with her own silent tears.

Burrowing his face deeper into Ryder’s hair, Reyes let go of the need to have complete control. Let go of the need to save face, to be the invulnerable big boss. 

He'd finally found out what it would take to break him: the death of the one he loved most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...ummm...sorry. That was difficult to write but Ryder had to die somehow to follow the story. Hopefully it stayed in character given the relationship/emotional buildup between them. I'm anxious to know what y'all think. 
> 
> [The fight Reyes remembers, about telling Ryder she deserves better, is on Tumblr](https://makocartwheels.tumblr.com/post/169778450149/prompt-fill-disappointment).


	17. Debts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old debts catch up with Reyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to everyone who left a comment on the last chapter. That was a difficult one to write and I appreciate your taking the time to let me know what you thought about it!
> 
> Little bit of smut at the end of this chapter because they wouldn't keep their hands off each other. Thanks to pikapeppa for helping with reality check.

_Threat threat threat kill it_. 

Before he was fully conscious, Reyes had the gun he kept at the small of his back drawn and aimed. His other arm tightened instinctively despite awkwardly laying on his side, protecting what he held dear. 

Ryder grunted and the doctor froze, hands half-raised. Nobody moved, until Ryder slowly lifted her right hand and rested it on his. “ _Cálmese_ ,” she murmured, her Spanish hesitant and not quite right, but understandable. The fog of sleep cleared and Reyes blinked his way to full consciousness. 

Heeding the pressure of Ryder's touch, he lowered the weapon and holstered it. The doctor had saved her life; it was probably safe to let him live. Probably. Especially given that he was one of Morda's.

Reyes muttered something he hoped would be considered an apology before sitting up and pinching the bridge of his nose. Crusts had formed at the corner of his eyes and he swiped at them, annoyed. 

_You're getting soft_ , the voice in his head taunted. _All this emotion_. Reyes pushed it away, reaching for Ryder's hand and squeezing it. She was real. The voice was just a phantom from a former life, brought to the forefront by stress.

Ryder was watching him when he opened his eyes, her turquoise gaze tired but steady. She didn't ask if he was okay, didn't say anything at all. Just squeezed his hand back and told him without a word that they would both be alright.

The doctor was laying gauze over the needles connecting Ryder to the hemofiltration machine and easing them out. She winced - they were thick and long - but didn't look away from him, eyes narrowing as she switched from reassurance to examination.

“I'm hungry,” she said finally. “Could you please bring me something?” 

Reyes snorted a laugh and caressed her face, then ran his thumb over her lower lip. He knew what she was doing. The woman rarely remembered to stock her own refrigerator and regularly forgot to eat unless he badgered her into it or started cooking for himself. She wanted _him_ to eat, and if she was making a point of it then he must look as rough as he felt.

 _Fair enough_. Her request reminded him that neither of them had eaten since before the mission. If the filtration had taken eight hours, that meant it had been about twelve. With the acknowledgement, his stomach growled and the hint of a smile curled the left corner of her lip. He leaned over to kiss it and rose. 

“She needs fluids first,” the doctor said. “Find some broth or juice.” He started preparing an IV bag, hooking it over a tall pole and muttering, “Hmm, we will need to use your other arm this time.”

“Go. I'll be fine now,” Ryder reassured Reyes. The dark circles under her eyes said she was still a long way from “fine”, but it would be good for her to eat.

With a last kiss on her forehead, Reyes whispered, “ _Te amo_ ,” and turned to go.

The rest of Ryder's squad had dragged chairs in and were arranged around the space. Reyes froze as he realised how much they would have seen and cursed himself for the complete failure of situational awareness. It wasn't that he particularly cared that they knew he and Ryder were together, but she'd wanted to keep it quiet to avoid distracting the team or making waves at Collective. 

_His_ greater concern was with anyone from his days as Anubis knowing. With few exceptions they were nasty people, the sort who would use her against him if there was gain in doing so. Especially if they'd seen any of this. Morda's comment about someone taming the jackal was bad enough.

“I'll stay and watch the kid, but I could use some breakfast. Or lunch. Food,” Drack rumbled. He stood long enough to fish the Land Rover's key fob from his pocket and toss it to Reyes, who caught it one-handed. Peebee was fixated on the microscope again and Reyes assumed the damned nanites were the focus of her intense study. 

Vetra rose. “I'll come with you.”

Reyes nodded and pushed through the plastic curtains, shoving his hands in his pockets. Vetra crossed her arms and fell into step beside him.

“So. You’re Anubis,” she said as they passed through the doors of the warehouse to the outside. Reyes ground his teeth before replying with a short yes. There was no use lying about it now. 

“And you’re with Ryder.”

Another short agreement. They strolled around the corner to the alley where Drack had parked the Land Rover and covered it with the heavy drop cloth Reyes kept in the boot. As he tugged the cloth off and neatly folded it, Reyes wondered where this line of questioning was going. 

“We’re good, right? For real, not just because Ryder was standing there in the office before.” Vetra slid into the passenger seat and sat with tension stiffening every line of her body. _Ah. She’s still worried about the fuck-up with Zia_.

“If we weren’t, I’d have eliminated the threat of betrayal rather than paying you for the work you completed,” he replied flatly as he put the SUV into gear and eased out of the alley.

She blinked at him. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Reyes agreed. “But I’m not an animal, Vetra. I have rules. I also don’t kill talented people, especially for shit that isn’t in their control. Zia had her own people watching the shipment. The failure was on Collective’s side, not yours.”

Vetra slumped in relief. “I did always wonder if you were Anubis. Too many coincidences.” 

Reyes took his eyes off the road just long enough to give her a tight-lipped smile. “And now you know two of my most valuable secrets: my identity and the truth of my connection to Ryder. That’s a dangerous position to be in.” 

The drifter was a clever woman; she had always shown sense in their previous dealings. “I understand. You have my silence.” 

There was nothing more that needed to be said so Reyes tapped the heads-up display in the center console for some music. The soothing jazz he would have preferred felt too intimate for the situation and he flicked to the next preset channel. 

Thumping EDM blasted out, making Reyes growl in annoyance. This was _not_ the station he’d had programmed before. “Ryder…” he sighed, moving to switch it off but turning it down instead. It wasn’t _that_ bad.

“You really care for her, don’t you,” Vetra blurted out after a minute. Reyes glanced at her, trying to read her body language from the corner of his eye. She was still tense, toying with the end of the long black ponytail that hung over her shoulder. 

_Trying to determine if her promise of silence will conflict with her loyalty to Ryder_ , he decided. A conflict he could appreciate, given the obligations were to him and his partner. After a moment of debating how much to say, he settled on more than a simple yes. Perhaps her allegiance to Ryder could be extended to him, ensuring her silence in an affirmative way - one that didn’t rest on the threat of his killing her. People were more manageable when they didn't feel threatened.

“I would do anything for her, including seeking help from a mob boss to whom I owe a death.” He still wasn't sure how he was going to get out of the old debt, let alone this new one.

Vetra’s eyebrows lifted. “Shit. That's commitment.” After another pause, she asked, “Does Ryder know?”

This was getting more personal than Reyes liked but he couldn't help his grin. Ryder was the only reason he had some semblance of balance between the two sides of himself. “About Anubis? Yes. She doesn’t react well to secrets.”

His passenger’s posture eased and Reyes repressed the urge to let the grin morph into a smirk. It seemed Ryder’s natural ability to win friends had benefits for him, too. With Vetra no longer tense, they finished the drive to town in silence. 

Reyes turned onto the high street and parked in front of a small cafe. Fifteen minutes later they were on their way back, laden with carrier bags full of soup, pasties, sandwiches, chips, and bottled soft drinks packaged up by the bemused staff. A light drizzle started falling, the kind Reyes hated because it wasn't enough to justify an umbrella but definitely made you damp. It would probably help with the salt crusting his clothes but he really just wanted a proper hot shower.

 _Soon. Ryder probably wants one, too, and she'll need help_. Reyes was trying not to daydream about getting Ryder into the shower as they pushed through the plastic curtains forming the field surgery.

Morda was there.

Reyes would have noticed mob thugs hanging around the warehouse if she'd brought them openly, so she was confident enough in Drack's family loyalty and Reyes’ unwillingness to see Ryder harmed to come alone. That said, she’d probably had eyes on them from a nearby building but with all of his focus on Ryder, Reyes had neglected to check. He still wasn’t used to blending the necessities of his life as Anubis with the responsibilities of his life as Reyes Vidal, CEO and lover.

 _You knew your woman would be a liability. Now what are you going to do?_ No. Now was not the time to give any attention to that voice. Even so, he slipped into Anubis like his favorite jacket, welcoming the sharpened focus and decreased emotion.

In a heartbeat, he’d assessed the situation. Peebee was standing, wary but staying out of the way. Drack was also on his feet, waiting in a loose ready stance, not interfering but clearly prepared to. On whose side, Anubis couldn't tell yet. The doctor was gone. Vetra entered behind him, swore, and moved along the periphery of the space closer to Ryder.

Ryder was on her feet facing the big woman, gripping the IV stand for support and with one arm wrapped across her chest, but upright. She'd had time to don the black t-shirt she'd been wearing to start the mission but not her jacket. Goosebumps pimpled her bare arms.

Morda turned as Anubis stepped in, watched as he slowly placed the paper bags full of food on the closest chair to free his hands. 

“What's going on here?” Anubis asked carefully. 

Ryder's expression was stony, her jaw tight and brows lowered. “I was waiting for _her_ to move past insults and boasting and tell me what the hell she wants.”

Morda was smart. She kept her eyes on the biggest threat in the room - Anubis himself - which meant he couldn't go for his gun without risking Ryder. 

“Your bitch is looking much better today,” Morda said with a wide, ugly smile. “No more bleeding from the eyes and ears. Awake and sassing her betters.”

A slight shifting from Drack suggested he didn't like Morda’s talk but the old merc held his tongue. Anubis eased closer to Ryder, not wanting her in his line of fire if it came to shooting.

“This _bitch_ can pay her own debts if that's what you're getting at,” Ryder snapped. “In fact, I'd say I already have. Or did your people not make it home last night?”

That caught Morda's attention and her gaze flicked to Ryder before returning to Anubis. “They said you were there anyway on some mission.”

Ryder’s grip on her pole became white-knuckled and she swallowed. “I had to make a choice. Save refugees or save Nakmors. Innocent people were left to die horribly so that yours could walk free. Six lives returned and you only had to save my one. The debt is paid and then some. In fact…” Anubis watched, fascinated, as Ryder’s expression turned sly. “I’d say _you_ owe _me_. By a factor of five.”

Morda turned to face her completely, giving Anubis a moment to step a little closer to Ryder. “How dare you -” the mob boss started.

“No, how dare _you_ ,” Ryder snarled. “I didn’t do this shit out of the goodness of my little heart. Archon crossed me and I went after him. Your people were a lucky bonus.”

The presence hovering in the back of Anubis’ head was, for the first time in most of a day, silent. He knew she was putting the worst possible face on herself, that she was partially motivated by a desire to do something good even if the impetus was an impulsive drive for revenge. But if she could stand toe-to-toe with southwest England’s biggest mafioso, she wasn’t a liability despite her naïveté. She was an even more powerful asset than he’d originally thought. 

A calculating look came across Morda’s face, her blue eyes narrowing as she glanced between Ryder and Anubis. “Your boyfriend still owes me a debt,” she said softly, dangerously. “Neither of you will leave until it’s settled.”

Ryder affected an air of nonchalance, shrugging and lifting her brows. Anubis was probably the only one who knew her well enough to read the simmering anger in the high tilt of her chin. “If the lives of your people mean so little to you that it takes six of them to equal mine, so be it.” Morda puffed up, hands fisting, but Ryder plowed on. “I’m a hacker, one of the best.”

 _Shit_. “Ryder, no,” Anubis warned, closing the rest of the distance between them to rest a hand on her arm. This was his debt to pay; he didn’t want her dragged into this part of his world. 

Morda held up a hand. “I’m listening.”

Ryder’s bottom lip rolled half under before she caught herself and stopped the nervous habit. “I’m also on the board of the refugee settlement program at the Andromeda Initiative.” Reyes tightened the hand on her arm and was ignored.

“How very interesting,” Morda purred, eyes glittering. “What are you proposing?” 

“This area is run down. Lots of crime, but nobody to keep an economy going. That’s bad for business.” Morda nodded and waved for Ryder to continue. 

“A boatload of refugees is on its way on the _Paarchero_ , if it hasn’t arrived already, but they’ll have nowhere to go since they were presumed lost at sea a month ago. Quite frankly, both the government and the Initiative are overwhelmed. Seems to me like we can all help each other. I arrange a settlement here for the refugees. You welcome them, work with them to get the harbour up and running again. Jobs and prosperity and opportunity for everyone, right?” 

Ryder paused, arching an eyebrow to make it clear that she knew exactly what kind of opportunities Morda would be looking for, and the other woman offered a tight-lipped grin. “But I want a clean slate for everyone in this room. No debts, no reprisals, no obligations, not even a grudge. We all walk away from this with body parts, property, and finances intact.”

Anubis was impressed but concerned. She was putting her reputation and her job at the Initiative on the line to get him out of hock with another criminal. “Ryder…” 

“Done,” Morda said, her grin expanding into a full-blown smile as she rubbed her hands together. Extending one to Ryder, she added, “I think I like your little bitch, Anubis. You weren’t going to walk out of here but she drives a hard bargain.” The two women shook hands and Morda turned to go with a last parting shot. “Keep her around. You’ll live longer.”

When the faint boom of the warehouse’s front door slamming reached them, Ryder dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut. “Whoa!” Anubis darted to catch her, lifting her dead weight and sitting her on the bed. She was shaking violently, breathing too quickly through her nose and gripping the frame. 

“Can I touch you?” Anubis asked, not sure where her mind was or if she’d resent him for the bargain she’d offered Morda. Ryder’s head bobbed quickly, her eyes unseeing, and he gently spread her knees to stand between them and gather her in for a hug. She grunted in pain and muttered, “cracked ribs,” so he shifted his embrace around her shoulders. Her arms wrapped around his waist, gripping him as though she’d never let go, and she buried her face in his chest despite the stiff scratchiness of salt-crusted cloth. “What did I just do?” she whispered. 

“You saved my life,” he replied seriously. Morda didn’t make empty threats. She’d come to collect in blood. He was a good fighter, trained in hand-to-hand combat, but Morda’s size and strength were greater than his and she was an accomplished bare-knuckle brawler. On top of that, the mob boss would almost certainly have had backup nearby and he kicked himself for being so focused on Ryder that he put all of them at risk.

Ryder’s embraced tightened. “Worth it.”

A wave of humility and affection washed Anubis away. “I question your assessment somewhat but I can admit to being grateful for it. Thank you, _mi amor_.”

A rustling behind him reminded him that there were bags full of food and she needed to eat. Peebee appeared with the thick paper tub of chicken soup and Reyes leaned back to look at Ryder. “Can you eat?” he asked. Her lips twisted before she answered. “My stomach is in knots but I probably should.” 

Reyes let her go completely and went to take a sandwich for himself, returning to sit on the edge of the bed with her to eat it. Everyone ate in silence with far-off looks that suggested they were going over the events of the last day. 

He understood. There was a lot to think about. 

***

Two hours later, they were back at the cottage Reyes had rented. The doctor had discharged Ryder with warnings to stay hydrated and rest before returning to London. Kallo greeted them somberly, perking up when he saw Ryder on her feet.

“The _Paarchero_ made it back to port. About ninety refugees on board,” he informed them. 

“Out of how many?” Ryder asked as she made a slow shuffle past him. Reyes hovered close enough to catch her if she went down again but hadn't given into his desire to simply pick her up and carry her. She wasn't a damsel and she'd refuse to be treated like one.

The thin driver was quiet for a moment. “I heard they left their home port with three hundred.”

Ryder pulled to a halt, closing her eyes as her face crumpled. “Not even a third,” she whispered. “And I left more of them to die to save six.”

 _Oh, no_. Reyes had hoped she'd been bluffing about having had to make a choice. Edinburgh still haunted her over a month later and this would add to her guilty conscience. Given the trembling that had started in her limbs, she was hanging on to her composure by a thread.

“Come on, _pajarillo_. Let's get you upstairs and into a warm bath,” Reyes coaxed. Her jaw clenched and she looked like she was going to argue. Then she deflated. “Yeah. A bath,” she agreed, shoulders slumping as she kept going.

Reyes detoured to the kitchen for ibuprofen and then followed. Once they got to the upstairs bathroom, Reyes handed her the tablets, taking a minute to look first at her, then himself. They were both filthy. 

Ryder frowned when he ran the shower. “Do you want to sit in dirty water?” he asked lightly as he pulled out two washcloths and set them within reach of the shower. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head, then took the pills with a swallow of water straight from the sink tap. 

Medication taken, she started to strip. Reyes winced at the red marks on her chest and left flank where the defibrillator paddles had been. Bruising on her sternum told the tale of successful CPR, which had also given her the cracked ribs. More bruising marked her left arm, where the hemofiltration needles had pierced her.

She glanced up from tugging her trousers off and winced at whatever she saw in his face. “I know. But hey, can't get worse than dying, right?”

His worst fear slipped out before he could stop it. “Not coming back would be worse.”

Reyes wished he could recall the words as soon as he's said them because pure terror flashed into her eyes before she could hide it. A single tear leaked from the corner of each and she scrubbed them away. “Hey, come here. _Lo siento_ ,” Reyes murmured, going to her and gathering her close. 

After a moment she pulled away, sniffling and rubbing her nose. “How about that hot shower? And then a bath…or something relaxing. I just…need to forget for an hour.”

“Anything you need, _mi reina_.” Reyes added his clothes to the messy pile hers made against the wall and followed her into the spray. 

As Ryder washed her hair Reyes watched the straight blue strands, frizzier than usual after a night on the sea, regain their natural curl. She had her reasons for straightening it but in his opinion, it was just as beautiful in tight ringlets. Unable to help himself, Reyes reached out and tugged one to watch it spring back, limp under the weight of water. She slapped playfully at him without opening her eyes and stuck her tongue out, spluttering when she got shampoo on it. 

After the tension and stress of the last day, the normalcy and silliness of it lightened Reyes’ heart. He chuckled, the laughter cutting off in an appreciative groan as she started soaping herself up. For all the movements were slowed by injury and fatigue he still enjoyed watching the smooth way her hands slid over her body, the rivulets of water as they sluiced soap away. 

“How long are those cracked ribs going to be an issue?” he asked, wanting her but knowing he couldn't have her until they were healed.

She hummed and replied, “That doctor said at least three weeks. Why?” Turning to look at him over her shoulder, she glanced down and grinned at his very hard cock. “Oh. Sorry, love…” Then her face fell and she stepped out of the stream of water to kiss him as they traded places. “I want you, too. After...after all _that_...I want to feel alive. I want you inside me.”

Reyes took the soap and the second washcloth he'd laid out. “Let’s finish this shower and see if I can help another way.” He cleaned himself quickly and switched the tap from shower to bath, dropping the plug in before seating himself at the back. Ryder eased down more slowly and settled against him, sighing contentedly as her body melted against his and the water rose.

“This is a good start,” she breathed, resting her head back against his right shoulder. The position trapped his erection between them until she shifted slightly. 

Knowing it was on the road to temptation for both of them, Reyes kissed and nibbled the line of her neck. Ryder shuddered, wincing as she breathed too deeply, and gripped his hand.

“Don't play your masochist games,” he warned her. “We're not playing one of mine, so just say stop if you want me to stop.” She nodded and turned her head to kiss the corner of his jaw.

When the bath had filled he carefully sat them up to turn the water off, then leaned back. Ryder let him manage the movement of her body, her skin sliding against his with a delicious friction.

After a few minutes of letting her rest, Reyes ran his hands gently over her flanks and as far down her thighs as he could reach before dragging his nails back up. “Slow, even breaths,” he reminded her, whispering the words in her ear when she started breathing too quickly. He slowed and deepened his own, Ryder catching the hint and breathing with him.

The occasional whimper escaped her throat as he repeated the movements. Then a low groan as his hands lightly caressed her breasts, rolling both her nipples between her fingers until they were hardened nubs before sliding one hand between her legs. 

Being in the water meant penetrating Ryder wasn't the best idea, but he could do plenty without putting even a finger in her. Still maintaining their slow, even breaths, Reyes gently caressed her outer lips, then skimmed back and forth over the slickness of the inner lips before circling her clit. 

“Slow…” he purred in her ear when her breath broke rhythm with his. She obeyed, shuddering, and turned her face to nip at his neck. It was his turn to lose the rhythm and gasp as his cock throbbed. 

They synced again but Reyes couldn't help slow movements of his hips, taking advantage of the rubbing of his cock between his belly and her ass and back.

“Breathe,” he reminded Ryder when her breath caught in the way it did when she was almost at climax. She obeyed, whimpering and pressing harder against him. 

“Reyes…” she panted, his name a plea. After a few more slow circles, he nipped her neck and pinched her clit.

“Fuck!” she cried as her orgasm hit her. Reyes held still, not wanting to restrict her movement if she needed to sit up and breathe. 

When Ryder slumped against him, completely boneless, he settled his arms loosely around her until her weight became too much. “ _Amor_ …” 

Grunting, she slowly sat up and turned around. “Sorry.” 

They gazed at each other in silence for long moments. “You're dangerous,” she said, looking like she was ready to jump him, injured or not. Reyes couldn't help his smug grin. “I know.”

She pursed her lips in an expression that said she was annoyed but not really. He knew she'd resigned herself to the effect he had on her months ago. 

“Your turn,” she said with a grin that matched the one he felt on his own face. Reyes raised his eyebrows in question. She was in no position to blow or fuck him so…

“I want to watch,” she declared boldly. _Aha_. That he could do. 

As he took the shaft of his cock in hand, she reached between her own legs. Reyes watched through the ripple of water as she did exactly what he'd done minutes before, slicking her fingers along her clit. He matched the movement of his hand to hers, further aroused both by the sight of her touching herself and her eyes on him.

He brought his other hand down to fondle his balls and increased his pace, the friction of his thumb over the head of his cock combining with the light pressure on his balls to bring him closer…closer...and there. Reyes looked Ryder in the eyes as he came, the pearls of his release jetting out into the water. She leaned forward and kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth, taking the role of aggressor for once.

And for once, Reyes didn't mind. It reminded them both that she was still alive.


	18. Pathfinders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder gears up to take on Archon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is still with me on this!

Four weeks of recovery was Ryder’s definition of hell. The doctor had said three but Ryder was a terrible patient, even by her own standards. It did nothing to improve her recovery time.

The first two weeks had been easy enough. She was exhausted after everything and still trying to process the choice she'd made. 

She'd allowed Reyes to drive her to work. The Nomad would have drawn unwanted attention at the Initiative, riding her motorcycle was out of the question given her driving style, and he’d pointed out the likelihood of her being squished by the press of people on public transport. It was a fair point but Ryder agreed to it mostly because she hoped it would temper his protective instincts. 

Arranging the new Tuchanka refugee centre in Portland and the fights with Tann had occupied Ryder until she’d gotten her way. Then, needing another distraction from the ache in her chest brought on by pains both physical and emotional, she’d turned her attention to setting up a second team, one whose members could work together as a unit, with her team, or independently as needed. Her squad was good, but they couldn’t be everywhere. 

Fortunately, Reyes had been more than happy to fund the idea. Hayjer agreed to sign on as her first recruit to what she’d settled on calling the Pathfinders; his engineering and leadership skills would be useful. She had a few more candidates in mind, tracked down on the dark web, and had reached out to gauge their interest.

Still, there was only so much she could take of fighting Tann, recruiting, and searching the terrain of northern France for the Meridian bunker. 

_I guess I should count myself lucky that Archon’s ship was wrecked_ , Ryder reminded herself at the end of the fourth week. She was in no shape to go after him and finding references to Meridian in government databases was proving more difficult than getting into the project files had been. She kept hitting walls and if she didn’t do _something_ with herself she was going to go crazy. 

“I'm bored,” she complained to Reyes, slumping against the doorframe of his home office. He looked up from the tablet on which he read reports when he worked from home, golden eyes flashing over her from head to toe as they had every day since she’d...died. 

_Bastard probably knows how I'm doing better than I do_. “And I want to fuck. I can breathe, see?” She took a deep breath, pushing her healing ribs to the limit. 

The coughs the movement elicited didn't hurt as much as they had, but she couldn't quite hide a wince from Reyes.

“It's hard to resist when you put it so nicely but it looks like one more week would do you some good,” Reyes replied, pursing his lips in regretful thought.

Ryder stretched, hooking her fingertips on the top of the doorframe and groaning his name. “This is _torture_ ,” she insisted, ignoring the faint twinge from her chest and stepping in to lean against the wall.

His gaze was sharp when she met it again, more than a hint of Anubis at the edges, and she realised that he must have been reminded of a bondage session. “If you think it’s torture now, wait until you’re well enough to play again.” Ryder shivered at the warning in his tone and her heart sped up at the thought. 

Anubis rose and stalked toward her, every movement slow and deliberate as he put his palms on the wall behind her and penned her in. Ryder swallowed as she looked up at him, wanting to flee, for him to catch her and pin her down and -

“I know what you’re thinking, _pajarillo_.” His body pressed against her lightly and his lips brushed against her ear in a seductive whisper before making their way along her jaw. “I won’t chase you today. But as soon as you can breathe properly, you’re mine.” Ryder’s gasp of want cut off at his kiss and she groaned as he claimed her mouth with his tongue. 

When he stepped back, it took Ryder a moment to gather her wits. “Soon,” Anubis promised, winking as his lip curled in a smug half-smile. 

“I’ll go rest, then,” she said, trying to sound unruffled and knowing she failed when he grinned. “You do that,” he advised, returning to his reports. 

_Bastard_. Ryder stomped out and shut the door behind her, more for the satisfaction of slamming it than anything else. That had _not_ helped her frustrated desire for him.

To get her mind off of the fire Reyes had lit in her blood, Ryder skimmed the report Peebee had sent over earlier. It had taken three and a half weeks but the robotics expert thought she’d pinpointed the purpose of the nanites injected into Ryder.

 _Purposes_ , Ryder corrected herself as she delved into the findings. Step one was to gradually paralyze the nervous system of the subject, rendering them helpless. Step two was to deaden pain receptors. Step three would further reduce the action potential of certain nerve cells, preventing the release of chemicals relying on cell-to-cell communication.

The result, to Peebee’s best estimation with consultation from Morda’s doctor, would be a better preparation for the kind of genetic manipulation they’d observed in the Kett acolytes.

 _Archon was going to turn me into one of them_. Ryder snatched her hand down from where she’d been unconsciously rubbing the back of her neck, where the needle had gone in. Her stomach clenched and an icy sweat broke out as she fought back the urge to vomit. _If Reyes hadn’t let the doctor kill me, I’d be on my way to being a Kett_. 

She lost the battle with her stomach and ran for the toilet, heaving up everything she’d eaten for dinner and then dry heaving for long minutes after that. 

“Better now?” Reyes asked when she stopped. Ryder jumped. “How long have you been there?” she asked, hugging the cold porcelain to stop herself from shaking.

“Since I heard running footsteps.” He handed her a glass of water and she rinsed her mouth, spat into the toilet, and flushed. “What’s wrong?”

Ryder wrapped her arms around herself. The shaking wouldn’t stop no matter how hard she squeezed, until Reyes pulled her into his embrace. “I started reading Peebee’s report on the nanites,” she said to his chest. “Reyes, if you hadn’t...done what you did…” She couldn’t finish the sentence and he didn’t press.

“ _Venga, mi reina_. I’ll make you some tea,” he offered in flat tones. Ryder allowed Anubis to steer her toward the couch and bundle her in a blanket. When the hot mug of comfort was ready, he sat with her while she continued reading the report and held her once she’d finished it.

_That motherfucker is going down_ , she thought, burrowing against his body and wrapping herself in her rage until the trembling stopped. _Nobody has the right to hijack someone’s body like that._

*** 

The next noon found Ryder at Tartarus, seated across the table from her second interviewee for another Pathfinder. Vederia Demali was as green as Ryder herself had been six months ago as far as combat experience went. 

“I was surprised to get your message,” Vederia admitted, tugging at a strand of wavy black hair and pulling it out of her neatly-pinned bob. “Most people aren't interested in hiring a half-trained commando. I’ve been doing odd jobs as a mechanic to get by.”

Ryder liked her immediately, much more than she had the arrogant woman before her. Sarissa Theris had had excellent qualifications on paper - and an attitude that told Ryder she wouldn't work well with anyone. Even Drack and Reyes, experienced loners that they were, could adapt their skills to a team.

“You've got more training than me and I'm still here,” she told Vederia, pushing away the thought of how close she'd come to that not being the case. “It's not just how much you have or haven't done. It's whether you're willing to do the job and are flexible enough to work without a team or on your own as needed.”

Vederia sat up straighter, her shoulders easing as she tucked the strand of hair back. “What kind of work, exactly?” she asked. Ryder leaned forward, encouraged by the other woman's question. 

Leading a team had been low to the point of non-existence on her list of interests when Reyes had proposed it. Now, though...now she could admit to satisfaction at what she'd accomplished so far. Bringing on a second crew of Pathfinders would leave her free to pursue Archon without abdicating her responsibilities to the refugee centres. Strangely, the responsibility she’d taken on had brought _more_ freedom to do what she wanted, not less.

The interview overran by fifteen minutes. Fortunately, Sarissa and Vederia were the only two for the day; she had scheduled another two for tomorrow.

“I like her,” Ryder announced as she leaned against the bar downstairs after seeing Vederia out. Tartarus would open for the Friday early birds soon but for now, they had the bar to themselves. “Need to check both their records further now that I have an idea what to look for, but Vederia would work better with my team and Hayjer, I think.”

“Is ‘check their records’ your new euphemism for 'hack into their business’ or do they have actual employment records?” Kian teased, skimming a glass of whiskey to her along the bar. She caught it and raised the tumbler in a salute with a wink. “Don't sass me or I'll check your records as well,” she replied, taking a sip of the amber liquor. Then, with a sly grin, she added, “Ask Reyes what it means.”

At her side, Reyes snorted and shook his head. “Careful, Kian, or she'll end up part-owner of the bar with all your secrets as leverage.” Ryder glanced at him in concern, unsure if he was maybe a little bitter, and he slid an arm over her shoulder to kiss her temple. “Not that I mind, but don't tell him that,” he whispered.

Kian made a face. “You two are so sweet it's disgusting. When are you moving in together again?” The mischievous twinkle in his eye was replaced by shock when Ryder answered, “As soon as my ribs heal enough to box everything up and lift it into the Land Rover.”

The bartender glanced from her to Reyes, then between them again with eyes narrowed. “Are you lot fucking with me?”

Ryder shook her head, seeing Reyes mirror the movement in her peripheral vision. “Jesus, you’ve even taken on the same mannerisms,” Kian muttered. Then, more loudly, “Well, then! Drinks all around. I'm ringing Keema, this calls for a party.”

At Reyes’ questioning look, Ryder nodded enthusiastically. She hadn't seen Keema since the Christmas party and a low-key night out would do wonders for her boredom.

“No wild dancing,” Reyes warned with a sigh. “Unless you want to wait even longer.”

Ryder huffed, annoyed that it had been the first thing on her mind and that he was right. “I _knooow_.” 

“I can't wait to see Keema’s face,” Kian declared as he went for the phone.

It didn't take long for Reyes’ second to arrive. Ryder had hidden behind the bar, enthusiastically agreeing to Kian’s suggestion that they play a joke. “What’s this about news? It had bloody well better be important, I was in the middle of -” she cut off, apparently having seen Kian rubbing his neck and Reyes leaning against the bar with a full glass of whiskey. “Fuck, Rey, what happened? Where’s Ryder?” 

Reyes sighed heavily. “We…” He trailed off and paused for dramatic effect. From her hiding place, Ryder covered her mouth with her hand to suppress a laugh. “...agreed to move in together.”

“If you’ve broken up with - _you what?!_ ” 

Ryder took that as her signal to pop up from behind the bar, laughing hard enough that she had to lean over it, holding her ribs.

Disbelief warred with hope in Keema's expression. “You better not be fucking with me, Rey. Ryder, please tell me this isn't one of his pranks.” Her face blanked as she put the pieces together. “You fuckers. Come here, Ryder.”

Wiping tears from her eyes, Ryder held up her hand. “Go easy on me, my ribs are still fucked.”

After hugging her and Reyes both tightly across the shoulders and deafening them with a high-pitched squeal, Keema released them. “Now what’s this about your ribs?”

 _Whoops. Shit_. She hadn’t intended tell either of them and Reyes’ flatly neutral expression as he settled on a bar stool stated his clear reluctance.

“This part, I hadn’t heard, but it’s the second time you’ve mentioned your ribs,” Kian said, crossing his arms. He and Keema looked like stern parents. Ryder swallowed. “Just an accident,” she said, forcing a light note and reaching over the bar for her glass of whiskey. 

Kian and Keema sighed, twin images of skepticism for all their differences in appearance. “Is this related to what you said about increased revenue from Portland?” Keema asked Reyes suspiciously. Ryder darted a glance at him and her stomach sank to see his features had hardened to give him Anubis’ dangerous cast. 

Ryder chewed her lip for a second, trying to decide how best to deflect the questions and move them back toward celebration. “We went down with my squad, blew the shit out of Archon’s ship, figured out what he’s after, convinced some bitch named Morda not to kill us, cut a deal with her, and came home,” she said in a rush.

Keema frowned while Kian’s jaw dropped slightly. “You made a deal with Morda?” the barman asked. Ryder eased back to lean against Anubis. His arms wrapped around her waist immediately, holding her tightly against him. She squirmed, aroused by the press of his body against hers, and he relaxed his grip.

“Yeah, you know her?” Morda hadn’t been the part of the story Ryder had anticipated them latching onto, but if it meant not talking about dying and having her ribs cracked during CPR, she’d run with it. That was a topic she would happily avoid thinking about forever. Her best friend Mara would almost certainly disapprove but Laz never wanted to remember the terrible pain that had been in Reyes’ eyes when he’d shouted for her to let go. Never.

Kian was looking at Anubis over her head. “I know of her,” he replied. “There was...a disagreement several years ago.”

“Everything’s settled,” Anubis said flatly, resting his chin on Ryder’s shoulder and kissing her cheek. “Thanks to Ryder.” Ryder stroked one of his arms and sipped her whiskey.

Rubbing her forehead, Keema muttered, “I don’t want to know the details, do I?”

“No,” Ryder and Anubis answered together. Anubis added, “It’s done, my debt is clear, and Morda’s impatience and greed blinded her to the fact that I’d benefit from Ryder’s offer.”

“Fuck me sideways, it’s about damn time that mess was sorted,” Kian said, shaking his head. “Looks like we have more to celebrate than I thought.” He poured a whiskey for Keema and raised his own glass as he handed it to her. “To London’s luckiest bastard and the only person who could catch him.”

“Hear, hear,” Keema agreed. They all drank, the whiskey and camaraderie combining with the comfort of her lover’s arms to spread an easy warmth in Ryder’s chest.

It was good to be alive.

***

“You’re not Macen Barro,” Ryder said when she opened the door to the private room to greet the next Pathfinder candidate. The tall blond man in front of her clasping a folder in one hand looked nothing like the average height, dark-haired man she’d been expecting.

This man clenched his jaw and swallowed, pain flashing into his grey eyes. “Macen...Macen died last week. Car accident. I’m Avitus Rix, his partner.” The last word was said softly and the look on his face reminded her of the way Reyes sometimes looked at her in the past few weeks, usually right before pouring himself a triple whiskey. Avitus didn’t mean business partner.

Ryder offered condolences and waved Avitus in. “How can I help?’ she asked cautiously. The instructions she’d sent had told each prospect to keep the invitation confidential and it concerned her that someone else would turn up in Macen’s place. 

Avitus shrugged. “He wasn’t supposed to say anything, but I know - I _knew_ \- when Macen was getting ready for a job. I’m retired, but he still took off-the-record kind of things.”

“Retired? Which branch?” Ryder asked. The man’s parade rest stance, the careful wariness, the check he’d made for alternate exits, all screamed ex-military to someone who’d grown up with a parent in the service. Avitus focused on her with a new sharpness. “SAS.” 

“My dad was SAS,” she murmured, accepting the folder he extended and opening it. Printouts of his service records, much of which were redacted. A few reprimands for going outside mission parameters, an addendum about managing his temper. Ryder made mental notes of passages that stood out; she could fill in the blanks herself later. “Impressive. So again, how can I help?”

Avitus held his hands behind his back and looked down at his feet. When he looked up again, the pain was still there, but so was a spark of something Ryder couldn’t identify. “Civilian life is...trying. Macen made it bearable but without him around, I need something to do.” He took a deep breath. “I want you to consider taking me in his place.” 

_Interesting_. Ryder studied the man, taking a page from Reyes’ book and not answering immediately. There was something more to this. 

After a few moments, uncertainty flashed through Avitus’ mask. “Look, I’ll admit. My whole career, I worked alone. This opportunity was meant for Macen and honestly, I don’t even know if I’ll be good at whatever you’re putting a team together for. But…” he trailed off into a sullen, uncomfortable silence. “I have to do _something_.” 

“I appreciate your honesty,” Ryder said slowly, moving toward the table deeper in the room. She could work with honesty, even if it was attached to a temper, and she understood using work as a way to get through heartbreak. It had gotten her through her mother’s death. “Let’s talk.” 

*** 

It took Ryder another two weeks to hack her way into the databases holding the additional information she’d gleaned from the interviews but finally, she’d collected all of the information she needed to make her decision.

“Hayjer, Vederia, and Avitus,” she told Reyes over dinner that evening. He’d prepared one of her favourite dishes to celebrate Nakamoto’s sign-off on her full recovery: coq au vin with sides of fresh greens and salmon tartare, served with a hearty red wine. She took a bite of chicken so tender it was falling off the bone and savoured the rich sauce. “Mmm, fuck, this is amazing, love. Thank you.” 

Reyes smiled, one of the rare ones that lacked any hint of seduction or teasing or smugness. “My pleasure. Welcome back to full health.” Ryder felt her own grin turn wicked, knowing she’d soon get what her body had ached for these last six weeks, and Reyes laughed.

“Talk me through your choices for Pathfinders,” he invited after a sip of wine. His tone was easy, but his eyes had sharpened now that they were talking business. Ryder sat up straighter and laid out her points. He had counterpoints, of course.

“I’m surprised about Sarissa. She seemed the strongest of the lot,” he mused.

Snorting in disgust, Ryder replied, “She took a long-term contract as a bodyguard and then let her charge die when she could have saved her. It was buried but it takes more than that to hide something from me.” She didn’t bother hiding the note of satisfaction in her voice; Reyes of all people appreciated both her skill and the occasions she took pride in it.

Reyes’ pleasant expression melted into a scowl. “Did she, now.” Ryder nodded, curious at the sudden shift but knowing better than to ask about it. _That must go against some element of whatever code he holds himself to_ , she thought, reflecting on what she knew of her boyfriend’s morals. _Probably one about breaking one’s word_. He rarely made promises but when he did, he kept them.

“Well. We did agree that you’d have final say on the team,” Reyes said. “Are they still getting a reduced version of SAM?”

Ryder sighed and nodded. She didn’t like the idea of other people having their own versions of her pet project but it increased her effectiveness by an order of magnitude. Arming two commandos and a combat-trained engineer with an AI like SAM would give them an edge they sorely needed to fight the Kett, protect the refugees, and fulfill whatever tasks Reyes had for them. 

_That is why he agreed to sponsor a full Pathfinder team_ , she reminded herself. “They’re mine twenty percent of the time.”

Reyes inclined his head. “That was our agreement.” The sparkle of his eyes spoke to a deep gratification that prompted Ryder to blurt out, “What do you need a team like this for, anyway?”

Smiling slyly, Reyes took another sip of wine and a bite of food before replying. “Goods don’t protect themselves and I have bigger plans for Collective. Last year was our best year ever, thanks largely to you, _mi amor_. With our processes streamlined and secured, profits up, and a new deal with Morda...let’s just say my ten-year plan has been moved forward substantially.”

Ryder raised her glass to cover her surprise at his openness, wondering if this was a residual effect of her three minutes of death or just his overwhelming pleasure in the success of his business. “Here’s to us.”

“To us and a long and prosperous future,” Reyes agreed. His Cheshire Cat grin had an edge sharp enough to cut but was genuine enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes slightly.

 _This man_ , Ryder thought, sipping her wine before shaking her head. “You’re a shady bastard, Reyes Vidal, and I love you.”

Laughing, he shot back, “You’re a dangerous bitch, Lazuli Ryder, and I love you, too.”

At that, Ryder’s grin grew to match his. It was nice to be appreciated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the home stretch. My goal is to complete the story by the end of February, or shortly thereafter (depending on real-life demands). I'm not sure exactly how many chapters are left, because sometimes the characters do something I wasn't expecting, but I have started outlining the path to this story's conclusion. Any lingering questions?


	19. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder finds what she's been looking for in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick chapter, with smut.

Something kept beeping. 

Ryder reached out a hand to slap at it, patting around until she realized that she wasn’t in bed. She’d fallen asleep at her desk and the alarm was coming from her computer, not her phone. Shooting upright, she barked, “SAM, status?”

“Analysis of your scans of Archon’s ship and the data you retrieved is complete,” the AI informed her in a calmer voice. 

Clicking through to the program she’d written specifically for her search in the early days of her recovery, Ryder prompted, “And?”

The map showed the answer at the same time SAM provided it. “The likeliest location for the bunker has been identified.” A blinking red dot on the map sat in the midst of a forested area outside Strasbourg. “National Hunting Ground Petit-Pierre,” Ryder muttered, translating from the French label. “They stuck a high-security bunker in a public reserve near the city hosting European Parliament?”

SAM answered her rhetorical question. “This is simply the most probable location given a cross-reference of area scans, resource allocation, budget discrepancies, and the encryption protocols used to secure the data with soil particulate recorded by your scanner on Archon’s ship, Pathfinder. There is room for error.”

Leaning back, Ryder crossed her arms and frowned. “It makes sense in a way. The EU’s failure to secure a federalized currency union means it’s continually on the rocks. The rest of the data suggests there’s something big going on here, bigger than one nation can realistically handle alone. Too many problems with climate change and resettling refugees and calming the people to devote a budget to it. But if France and Germany - and it has to be those two, they’re the only ones with any cash - if they backed some massive project and told the other governments it would fix things…”

“I concur, Pathfinder,” SAM replied when she trailed off. 

Ryder sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is even bigger than we thought, SAM.” 

“It is.” 

_Fuck_. “Do we know if the project is still active?” Going up against a human trafficking organization was one thing. Going up against national governments was another. _But if the Kett know about it, there’s another way in_.

SAM’s response settled her somewhat. “Analysis of the budget suggests the project was abandoned at least ten years ago. The recovered data indicates that the Kett acquired several samples, including the initial batch of nanites, on the black market around that time.”

 _There’s that, at least_. “So...someone saw the chance to cash in on the project’s failure? Rogue employee?”

“That is probable.” 

“Keep looking, SAM. I’m not chasing off to northeast France for a probability.” Rising, she ran for the door. Reyes would want to hear this and he probably had his own black market contacts who could help. 

As Ryder slid to a stop in her stocking feet outside the door to his office, Reyes glanced at her and held a hand up before turning the chair away. _Who the fuck is he on the phone with at...shit it’s half one already_. Bouncing on her toes, Ryder pulled stupid faces at the back of his head until he hung up and spun the chair back around to wave her in. 

“You found something,” he said at the same time Ryder asked, “Anything I should know?” 

His pleased grin told her it was business even as he replied, “Probably best you don’t.” 

Rolling her eyes, Ryder skipped in and said, “Super secret illegal stuff?” He’d opened up last night, maybe he would again.

Reyes’ grin slipped. “Not that I’m admitting to anything...but would that be ‘big stuff’ if it was?”

Ryder shrugged and straddled his lap to kiss him. “Only if it involves me or the refugee centres. I told you, you can have your secrets. And what I don’t know, I can’t give away to Scott later when he starts asking me about this boyfriend I’ve moved in with.” Keema and Kian’s excitement had kindled her enthusiasm from a cautious ember to a flame, especially after Portland.

Tense muscles relaxed under her touch and Reyes smiled again, kissing her forehead. “In that case, pretend you saw nothing.”

“Hmmm. I’ll need a payoff. I am a government official, after all,” Ryder said with a wicked grin. The Andromeda Initiative was technically a quango, but it was close enough.

“Is that so?” Reyes murmured, gaze sharpening. His hand skimmed up her body to fondle a breast. “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. What would it take to keep this evening quiet?”

The caress heated Ryder’s blood. “I want what you promised two weeks ago. I’m better now.”

A smirk that wouldn’t have been out of place on the Devil’s face lit Reyes’ expression. In the space of a breath, the hand at her breast was tangled in her hair, forcing her head back. The other snaked around her waist, pulling her crotch against his growing erection. “This?” he asked, his breath hot against her ear.

“You'll have to do better than that,” Ryder demanded, panting as she steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders.

Reyes chuckled, the low, rich sound raising goosebumps along her arms. “Tell me what brought you bouncing over here and then I’ll see what I can do about ‘better’.”

###

As Ryder’s lean form darted up the stairs ahead of him, Reyes forced himself to go more slowly, focused on controlling his excitement. Between her news about the Meridian site and the imminent fulfillment of six long weeks of waiting for her to recover, Reyes’ anticipation had peaked to levels he last remembered experiencing in the moments before a hit.

Back then he’d been practiced in harnessing the energy. He still had the knack of it for emotion but the pure electricity of nerves was no longer an everyday occurrence. Tonight, though, his gamble on nudging Ryder into a leadership position was paying off with a lead on government secrets. That would have been enough to celebrate on its own but Ryder demanding that he play with her on top of it had given him a solid hard-on. Blending business and pleasure always did it for him.

 _Focus_ , he reminded himself. Ryder was already stripping when he got to the bedroom and he flicked on the lights, leaning in the doorway to admire her while he pulled his thoughts together. Tonight would be a walk on a knife’s edge. Not only to keep himself in check, but to ensure Ryder could wake up tomorrow feeling purged and healed rather than further traumatised.

The pure _want_ in her eyes, the restless shifting, and the quickness of her breaths told him that she wasn’t thinking about the fact that the last time she’d been bound it hadn’t been by his hand. It had been by Archon, with zip ties, after he’d infected her with nanites and had her locked in a closet. Ryder hadn’t told him everything that had happened on that mission, but she’d told him that much. The last thing he wanted was for a stray memory to make her panic or to keep her restrained if it happened.

“Lazuli,” he called sternly, using her full first name to get her attention. She went still, only her eyes moving as she followed his movement to the toy drawer. He pulled out the simplest cuffs he had, the ones it would be easiest to free her from, and held them up. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

“Yes. Please,” she breathed, her gaze on the cuffs.

“Tell me why,” he said softly. She whined, apparently thinking he was already playing. _I need to know where your head is, mi reina, so I know how to help you and how far to push you_. “Tell me,” he insisted.

Ryder chewed her lip and avoided his gaze. “I want you to make me _feel_. I need...I need you to remind me that I’m...really alive,” she replied after glancing at him hesitantly. The words gradually quieted until she was whispering and she ran her fingers through her hair before wrapping her arms around herself.

“Thank you for being honest,” he said warmly, approaching to grasp the back of her neck with one hand and kissing her while dipping the other between her thighs to reward her. She cried out in pleasure and clutched his waist as he slicked his fingers along the wetness he found.

 _A test, before we do more_ , Reyes decided, backing her toward the bed without breaking their kiss. When Ryder stopped against the edge of the bed, he turned her around to face it. “Safeword and signal, _mi amor_ ,” he purred, kissing her shoulder and unbuttoning his jeans. She shivered and confirmed the same she’d used previously as he pulled out his cock.

“Hands,” he ordered, hearing the hoarse excitement in his own voice, and she brought them behind her back. “Hold your elbows.” She obeyed and he cuffed her, nudging her stance wider with one foot. “Remember: you’re in control. You stop this the second you start to _think_ it’s too much. Don’t wait until it is. Understood?” 

At Ryder’s breathy “yes”, Reyes forced her down with one hand between her shoulder blades. She gasped and folded at the hips. He guided himself into her and groaned in pleasure, holding onto control by a fingernail to avoid going too deep on the first thrust. It had been weeks since he’d fucked her and he wanted any pain he caused to be deliberate, rather than the sloppiness of mindless ramming. 

Even with his caution, Ryder screamed his name and panted when he paused to let her get used to the feel of him again. When she started begging for him, he began moving again, long powerful thrusts that drew rhythmic grunts from her as her inner walls stretched to accommodate him. 

_Control, control, control_ … Reyes felt the shift in his mind to where he was balanced with Anubis, the iron grip on himself that made everything clearer. Now he could fuck her hard and remind them both that yes, she was truly alive, and she was his.

He leaned over, stretching over the length of her body. His right hand clapped over her mouth and pulled her up slightly while his left held her hips in place. Keeping his eyes on her fists for any flutter that would signal a tap-out, he drove into her relentlessly and savoured the muffled screams against his palm, the way the bursts of air from her nose intensified when his hips slammed against her ass.

Ryder’s orgasm caught him by surprise. Usually, there was a build-up that Reyes could feel, a slow and steady tensing of her body. This time, every muscle clenched at once and she sobbed. “ _Chuta_ ,” he swore as the constriction of her pussy around him triggered his own climax. He’d intended to hold back until she had had a second but the familiar, long-absent feeling of her shuddering beneath him broke his concentration.

When they’d both finished, he leaned over her again and asked, “Have you had enough?” She was still gasping for breath but managed a no. “You’ll need...to do better...than that,” she panted.

Reyes pushed himself up and tugged her up after him with a grip on either arm. “I’m just getting started.” The moment she had her balance, he pinched both her nipples hard and bit the side of her throat when she yelped and arched back against him. “Yes, please, Reyes, please,” she moaned. 

With a clear affirmative, he directed her to the corner of the room where he’d drilled rings into the wall while he pulled out a few more items. Some were familiar to Ryder, others were new, and she agreed to all of them. Reyes slid the rest of the way into Anubis, preparing himself for a long night, before collaring her, leashing her to a ring, and getting started.

He took Ryder at her word, losing himself in a trance as he drew her along the fine line between pain and pleasure, defiance and submission. The worries and residual fears, the memory of watching her die, the aching need to make sure she was still his melted away as Anubis worked her, pushing her nearly to her limit, then making her come, then switching back again. 

There was a comfort in the illusion of control. She could stop it at any time, but until she did, she was his to master.

It was the strange hour that wasn’t quite dawn when Ryder finally gasped her safeword. Anubis had switched off the vibrator he’d been using on her when her lips started to form the word and was already freeing her from the spread-eagle cuffs attaching her to the bedposts when she finished it. He’d never pushed her so far for so long and had moved her to the bed when she started tiring, not wanting to have to move her when she’d had enough. 

“How do you feel?” Reyes asked as he massaged Ryder’s limbs. She’d downed a glass of water and collapsed onto her belly, knowing the routine.

“Alive,” she mumbled to the sheets. Her eyelids lost the battle to stay open, fluttering slightly as they closed. “Love you,” she added, more asleep than awake.

Reyes reached into the nightstand drawer, withdrawing arnica cream to rub into the red welts crisscrossing her tawny skin. “ _Yo también te amo. Nunca me dejes otra vez_ ,” he murmured back. When she didn’t react he kept going, telling her in Spanish all of the feelings he couldn’t quite bring himself to admit to when she was awake.

The fear making a pit in his stomach from the minute Drack put her down in the boat until the moment he had his cock in her tonight.

The anxiety that some residual effect of the nanites would surface and take her from him.

The rage that someone would try to take her from him and his helplessness to do anything about it until after the fact.

The frustration at knowing she would go and risk it all again instead of letting him send one of his private security teams, and that he’d have to let her because she was the best hacker he’d ever heard of and it would probably take someone of her skill to break into Meridian.

The pride he had for her, that she was his, and the awe at her strength in fighting through the pain and not only completing the mission, but also making it back to him and _living_.

Ryder had told him at Kian’s Christmas party to talk to her rather than hold everything in, but she’d never specified that she be conscious.

When he’d tended to her and unburdened himself, he stumbled out of bed, stretched, and headed downstairs for more water and a plate of fruit, crackers, and hard sausage. Reyes had no idea how long Ryder would sleep, but he wanted her to eat when she woke up. 

After taking a minute to arrange the plate and tidy the room, he pressed close to her, pulled the duvet over them both, and allowed himself to drop into a deep, restful sleep for the first time in six weeks.

###

Hunger gnawed at Ryder, dragging her from dreamless slumber and into dim consciousness. With awareness came the aches of sore muscles and tender skin. 

“Owwww,” she groaned, shifting to stretch and deciding she didn’t need to do that to herself just yet. Something warm and masculine-smelling was next to her cheek when she turned her head and she reached out, eyes closed. 

“ _Buenas tardes_ ,” Reyes greeted her as she skimmed her hand up his thigh and wrapped it around his hips. He was sitting upright and she shifted again until her head rested pillowed in his lap, bumping against whatever he had in his hand. _Probably his damn tablet. He never stops working_. The thought fled as his fingers threaded through her hair and started massaging.

“What time is it?” Ryder mumbled, still refusing to open her eyes.

He leaned, prompting a noise of protest from her, and a scrape from her nightstand said he’d picked up something. A plate, maybe. “Time to eat,” he replied, and the smell of fresh fruit hit her nose. “You’ve been asleep for nearly twelve hours.” 

That was worth opening her eyes. “Do you ever _not_ think of everything?” she asked. The spread had all of her favourite nibbles. She opened her mouth to accept the grape Reyes offered, imagining herself a queen being tended by her handsome attendant. He took the next one for himself, grinning cheekily at her scowl, before giving her another. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Ryder considered. “Probably not going to try sitting today,” she admitted, thinking of the stripes that decorated her ass. “But I feel rested for the first time in weeks. I needed that.” 

She almost didn’t hear his quiet, “So did I.” 

_He’s been through the wringer lately_ , she thought guiltily, squeezing his leg in acknowledgment. _If there’s something good in Meridian for him, I’m taking it. He deserves it_.


	20. Ghost Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A way forward and a way in present themselves to Ryder.

Sunday morning found Laz brunching with Mara, followed by calls to confirm her new Pathfinder team and arrange to meet at Collective mid-week. The rest of the day was taken up with reviewing the additional analysis SAM had completed.

“SAM, we have to assume they know how to get there. It’s been six weeks; they might have beaten us to it.” She sighed and chewed her lip, thinking. “We’ll either have to shoot our way in or sneak past, and I am really fucking tired of being shot at.”

“Perhaps your teams can assist,” SAM suggested. Ryder heaved another sigh. “I really fucking hope so.”

She brought the information about Meridian and her concerns that the Kett were already there at the Wednesday afternoon meeting. They’d gathered in Peebee’s lab in the lower levels of the building to avoid being seen by too many of Reyes’ more legitimate staff.

Peebee frowned when Ryder finished. “Why are we going after the Kett again? That didn’t end so well last time, Ryder.” 

“Tell me about it,” Ryder quipped, striving for a light tone despite the sudden hammering of her heart. _Don’t think about it, don’t think about it_. Reyes caught her eye from where he leaned unobtrusively against the far wall, half-hidden and largely forgotten by the rest of the group. He breathed deeply, exaggerating the action. Ryder took the hint and did the same. 

“The nanites they used on me originally came from Meridian. If they got their hands on those, what else did they get? Who are the Kett going to target once they run out of refugees? And if they have access to Meridian now, what fresh hell are they going to unleash if they get better shit?”

Vetra shifted. “We could report them,” she suggested. 

Tilting her head to the side, Ryder admitted, “Sure, we could. But to who?” She let the question linger in the air, waiting while it went unanswered. 

“The Kett kidnappings and trafficking have been going on for years now. The governments and secret services and police all have bigger concerns or we’d be hearing all about a ‘war’ on the Kett like they do for climate change or drugs or knife crime. They don’t care because the only people the Kett are taking, for now, are those they were forced to let in. Besides…” She grinned, unable to hide her enthusiasm for this part, the part that had decided her when she had asked herself the same question Vetra just posed. “Don’t you all want to see what toys might be there?”

“That’s an interesting point,” Peebee chirped, having lit up at the word “toys”. The rest of the room made interested sounds while Ryder let them think, unable to help glancing at Reyes. His Cheshire Cat smile was back. _There’s a man who wants to get his hands on some goodies_.

“So. Need a way in,” Hayjer summarised. Ryder nodded, pleased that the new team was getting involved. Taking a moment to meet everyone’s gaze, she added, “Preferably a way that involves stealth. I’m tired of fighting the Kett head-on and I don’t want to tangle with government forces if it can be avoided. We do this quietly.”

It took most of another week of non-stop work but finally, Peebee and Hayjer presented a solution based on intel they'd asked Ryder to hack.

“It’s a new technology we’ve designated 'Ghost Storm’,” Hayjer said. The skinny engineer was puffed up with pride; Peebee beamed beside him. “The Kett won’t know what’s real," she added. "It’ll confuse their readings.”

As they launched into their explanation of what sounded like a personal heat signature multiplier, Ryder grinned. _Make them think an army is coming while making it harder to find out where we really are_. “It’ll be a risk, but I like it,” she told the team. 

Avitus said, “Risk comes with the job.”

He had a point. Ryder chewed her lip a moment, trying to find a problem and coming up short. “Let’s do it. Reyes?” 

“Send me the plans. I’ll have a prototype scheduled for rush production.” His golden eyes seemed aglow at the prospect of another exclusive product for Collective. _Even if Meridian doesn’t pan out, he’ll come out ahead with this._ The tech would sit nicely alongside the weapons he already offered to select governments and she knew he’d be making extra copies for himself. 

Once upon a time, it might have made her feel used. Now she just grinned, proud to finally be able to give him something in return for all he’d poured into her hunt.

***

“What’s on your mind, _pajarillo_?” Reyes asked later that evening. Ryder looked up from her bowl, realising she’d been stirring her soup without seeing it, and spooned a bit into her mouth to give herself another minute to think. 

“The Initiative isn’t working,” she said finally. Reyes lifted his eyebrows in surprise but said nothing, waiting for her to continue. “Their mission is to ease the transition to the UK for migrants and find other solutions to migration. I thought starting the refugee centres would make the people safer. It did in some ways, but it also made them targets and the Initiative isn’t set up to deal with the larger security concerns.” She paused to gauge Reyes’ reaction. He tilted his head side to side, not disagreeing but not agreeing, either. 

Ryder sighed. “I - _we_ \- can, though. But I’m wasting half a week trying to keep up appearances there. Reyes...what if I just resigned?” 

That got a reaction. Reyes put his spoon down and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Resigned and…”

“Came to work full time at Collective,” she murmured, heart fluttering as a slow, predatory smile eased over his face. 

She’d resisted the idea originally, telling herself that maintaining ties at Initiative was best for the big picture. Realistically, Tann’s bureaucratic grandstanding and general bullshit got in her way. Aside from that, she’d missed enough work chasing Archon that she was one write-up away from being fired anyway and even if she did leave, she knew their systems inside and out. She’d _built_ most of them. If she needed something she could easily break in and take it. 

And if she stopped avoiding the truth, she could admit that she’d held onto the job mostly to avoid giving too much to Reyes, too fast. Dying had a way of putting things in perspective.

Even in his excitement, Reyes was cautious. “I won’t try to convince you one way or the other.” He leaned back, face shuttering as he folded his hands over his stomach. Anyone else might have been fooled into thinking him relaxed. Ryder caught the spark in his gaze, felt the weight of it as he pinned her to her seat.

“I’ll always be Pathfinder, whether I’m at the Andromeda Initiative or not. Cora would be overjoyed to take over the day-to-day management of the centres - the bitch has wanted that part of my job from the beginning - and Liam can help her,” Ryder explained. She’d been thinking about this all day, since remembering that she had to go to work on Monday...and not with the teams she cared about leading. 

One corner of Reyes’ lip tipped upward. “You’re rationalising,” he pointed out, lazy as a lion with easy prey in sight. “What do you really want?”

Heat flushed her cheeks as anger flared at his attitude and she forgot the rest of her thoughts. “I’m not rationalising. I can’t just walk away.” 

Again the sideways tilt of the head. “Okay.”

Ryder opened her mouth to snap a reply and stopped as reason caught up with her, an icy dash of sense cutting through her temper. “You won’t try to convince me but you’re not above manipulation,” she accused, scowling. Reyes winced, sitting up again as he realised his error. “Habit, _mi amor_. Cards on the table, I want this. I’ve wanted it for months but I know better than to push. The question is legitimate though. What do you really want?”

Sighing, Ryder slumped in her chair and played with her soup again, anger ebbing away as she considered his question. _What do I want? Why am I doing this?_

“I want freedom,” she whispered. That wasn’t quite it, though. 

Then it hit her. In a louder voice, she added, “I want a challenge, not to sit around automating processes for an organisation that doesn’t deserve me. I want to be free of Archon, and Tann, and stupid rules and _fear_. I’m tired of it, Reyes. I want to do things my way, without being afraid of pissing off the wrong people or bloody well being killed for it. Working with you is freeing.” Ryder fished in her bowl for a piece of chicken and ate it before admitting the last part. “I’m not afraid of us anymore. I’m all in. All or nothing, okay?”

When she looked up, Reyes’ expression was set in the careful blankness that usually indicated strong emotion being hidden behind high walls. “All or nothing,” he agreed, his rich voice rendered slightly hoarse by whatever he wasn’t showing on his face. 

“So. I’ll quit on Monday. After Archon is finished, we can talk about my next project for Collective.” 

***

For all he berated and harassed her on an almost daily basis, Tann was _not_ happy to receive Ryder’s immediate resignation. She’d spent the weekend writing backdoors into any systems she thought she might want to access again later, then burying them in code and hiding her tracks. If anyone thought to attempt securing the system after she left, a dormant worm lay ready to make its way through the backdoor and reopen the connection whenever she called. 

That left handing in her formal letter and being escorted from the building by Kandros, her satchel bulging with the personal items she'd collected on her desk over the last five years. “After all the work you put into this place, you’re leaving, just like that? What are you doing, Ryder?” he asked as he led her through the front doors. 

Ryder grinned up at the security director, remembering the day he’d given her knife back. Kandros was a good guy. “I’m living,” she said, before hopping back on the Tempest and roaring away. 

True to his word, Reyes had the prototype finished and delivered to Peebee’s lab at the end of the week. When she wasn’t forging identification for the team, Ryder spent the time training hard to recover the stamina and strength she’d lost during her recovery, joining Reyes on his daily runs and practicing with him at the firing range. 

Far from feeling like she was losing herself in him, Ryder sensed she was gaining something new, something she couldn’t put her finger on but which had the effect of sunlight on a blossoming bud. They were more together. Better. London was theirs and there was more for the taking, a whole world of opportunity.

“I’m proud of you,” Reyes said to the back of her head the night before they planned to leave for France. Ryder had been basking in the afterglow of a spontaneous post-workout fuck and tried to turn around on the couch to look at him. His arms tightened, forcing her to stay where she was. “Not because you’re joining me in exercise and shooting, although that’s commendable and I enjoy the company.” 

“Then why?” Ryder prompted when he didn’t continue, embarrassed but curious. He’d never said anything like this before. 

His lips brushed the scar on her left shoulder. “No matter what happens, you keep getting up. You fly forward. And you go after what you want, even when it takes work. I know you’re still hurting from - what happened...” He skimmed over her death; neither of them liked to think about it. “But it hasn’t stopped you. I love you for it. Whatever happens at Meridian, remember that.”

“ _Te amo_ ,” Ryder whispered back, lost for words. Reyes’ warm chuckle wrapped around her as surely as his arms, chasing away some of the fears that had been on the periphery of her thoughts. 

Whatever happened at Meridian, she had this man to support and anchor her. 

***

Getting to Meridian was the easy part. The passports Ryder had faked had the latest biometrics technology, courtesy of the data she’d liberated from the Kett. Whoever had sold them the nanites had been back later with passport specifications, which explained how they’d been so difficult to track. They were ghosts. 

She’d also created _permis de chasse_ , the hunting permits they’d need to enter the reserve in which SAM thought Meridian had been hidden. They’d gotten lucky; another week and the beginning of March would have brought the end of hunting season and the close of an easy opportunity to get their kit in without too much trouble. Reyes, unsurprisingly, had had hunting rifles among his stock of weapons. They’d put their combat gear under a false bottom in the trunk and laid enough rifles on top to cover a scan. 

After examining their permits and weapons licenses, and a cursory check of their gear, the _gendarmes_ waved them through. “Strange that there are military police guarding a forest,” Reyes mused as he drove the Land Rover along the snow-covered road. The Nomad had remained in London, too distinctive to take across international borders, but the Land Rover only needed a false registration plate and VIN signal. 

Drack and her first team followed in a rented SUV, driven by Kallo, while the Pathfinders were on standby at their lodgings, a rustic cottage with plenty of privacy just outside the grounds. Ryder wasn’t willing to take chances; if something happened to her, she wanted a backup team ready.

Right now, though, she was focusing on finding Meridian and only grunted in response, trusting Reyes to worry about security while she did her part of the job. Two clicks of her radio signalled Peebee to send up a stealth drone equipped with a miniature version of SAM’s scanner. 

They crawled along the road, ostensibly on their way to the nearest visitor centre but mostly just waiting to hear something, anything, from Peebee that would send them elsewhere. Ten minutes passed and they arrived with no word. Reyes and Ryder swapped sunglasses for camouflaged balaclavas before getting out. 

Reyes had been grimly satisfied with the convenient disguise provided by winter hunting gear, taking extra time to research the terrain and acquire the perfect kit. Nobody would think they were anything other than a hunting party. More importantly, nobody would see their faces inside the reserve, nor would they think anything of it. 

Kicking their way through snow to the vehicle's boot, they made a show of checking gear for anyone who might be using the toilets or restocking supplies in the visitor centre. Drack did the same when Kallo pulled up alongside them. Neither man betrayed any of the nerves sending invisible ants crawling along Ryder’s skin. 

After another fifteen minutes, Peebee hissed, “Got something.” The small screen she held, mostly hidden from sight by her body, showed a map with a blinking dot to the northwest. 

“Move out,” Ryder said, shouldering her pack and suiting action to words. 

A twenty-minute walk took them deeper into the woods. It was slow going and occasionally they heard a crack, either of hunting rifles going off or tree branches snapping under the weight of snow. Ryder was beginning to get grouchy with the cold nibbling her nose and toes when Reyes caught her arm and raised his other hand in a fist, halting everyone. “Wait here,” he ordered in a low voice, eyes somehow on the ground and in the trees at the same time.

The cold made its way to Ryder’s stomach. _What does he see?_

Drack nudged her and pointed to a nearby tree as Reyes moved forward alone. Bark had been scraped off in a way that she assumed was random. “Directional marker,” the old man muttered. “He’s good. Better than I thought. Wouldn’t have expected a city boy to spot something like that.” 

Reyes’ return was nearly as stealthy as his leaving had been. “Kett,” he murmured in Anubis’ voice from behind Ryder, steadying her with a hand on her arm when she jumped and strangled back a yelp of surprise. “Set up in what is meant to look like a hunting camp. They’ve been dug in for a couple of weeks from the state of the paths in the snow and the lax security. It’s difficult to tell at this distance, but I think they’re guarding a metal door set into the ground.”

“Showtime,” Ryder whispered. Anubis nodded, fiddling with his watch. “Coordinates sent. I’m going to find somewhere to cover you.” He hefted his rifle, which now sported a heavily modified scope. 

Checking her own watch, Ryder got her bearings and swallowed against the lump of fear rising in her throat. Anubis caught her chin and lifted it, peering at her face before kissing her soundly. Then he was gone, slipping soundlessly through the trees and obliterating his tracks with a pine bough as though he’d grown up in a forest and not one of Chile’s major cities. 

“Much better than I thought,” Drack allowed when only scrapings in the snow remained. He elbowed her when she continued to stare after her lover, rubbing her tingling lips. “Let’s go, kid.” 

Ryder heaved a deep breath. “Yeah. Time to find out what dirty little secrets we can steal out from under Archon’s nose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still with me? Only a few chapters left to go. Thanks to everyone who has read this far.


	21. Bunker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder's team finds the bunker - as well as more Kett.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: they use hunting as a cover story, so there is a small mention of a hunt. Canon-typical Kett violence.

As Ryder peered through binoculars from behind a tree at the Kett camp set up in the middle of a clearing, she made a mental note that she and Reyes had very different definitions of “lax security.” They all looked pretty alert as far as she could tell, but then again, she wasn’t a former hitman.

Supply crates and windbreaks created an effective barrier around the camp and Ryder wondered how many hunters had wandered close, curious as to what an installation like this was doing in the middle of the woods. However many it was, she had a feeling she knew what had become of them. 

“SAM, are you picking up any frequencies?” she asked, refocusing on the mission and putting her scanner in passive mode. After a minute the AI confirmed radio frequencies and a limited-range pulse indicative of a thermal imaging scan. “How limited?” she hissed, hoping they hadn’t already wandered too close. 

“Approximately ten metres,” SAM replied the calm tones of its synthetic voice doing nothing to soothe Ryder. “We are almost eleven metres away from the camp.”

 _Fuck, that’s lucky. They probably set it to just inside the clearing to avoid setting off an alarm every time a deer passed by_. She chewed her lip, trying to decide how best to draw the Kett away from the trapdoor Reyes had mentioned now that they knew what they were up against. “Anubis, do you have a shot?” she whispered, not wanting to use his real name.

“Yes.”

“Can you make it and move to another position safely?” Another affirmative. “Okay. On my signal, can you take one out to get their attention? Then we’ll activate Ghost Storm. When they investigate, we get into the camp. Drack and Vetra, pick off stragglers. Peebee, you’re with me to figure out how to open that door. Any objections?”

No-one voiced any opposition. Taking a deep breath, Ryder closed her eyes a moment to settle herself and prayed she wasn’t about to get her team and the love of her life killed. “Anubis, now.” 

Several tense seconds passed before the muffled crack of a silenced rifle tore through the trees. Through her binoculars, Ryder watched as a Kett dropped, head lolling to show a bloody ruin in the centre of his forehead. _Fuck. Knowing your boyfriend is good at killing people is a little different from having it confirmed in front of you!_

'Good' didn’t quite cover it. There was a second crack as Ryder ordered Peebee to activate Ghost Storm and a second body dropped. A third as Kett boiled out of tents, one raising a tablet and turning as though scanning the surrounding area. He started shouting, pointing into the woods away from the team.

“Showoff,” grumbled Drack. 

Anubis’ reply was punctuated by a light thud over the radio and Ryder envisaged him dropping to the ground to run through the trees. “Just giving them a little encouragement,” he breathed, smug satisfaction rolling through his tone. 

“Try motivational speaking,” Vetra quipped. “I bet you’d slay.” 

“Enough,” Ryder broke in, unsettled and tensing as the Kett started to pour into the forest toward where the shots had come from. _Be safe, Reyes_. 

As she opened her mouth to order everyone forward, the trapdoor popped open and more Kett swarmed out, running toward the woods with a motley variety of guns drawn. “That’s our way in. Let’s get behind them - and don’t let them shut that door!”

Leading the around the camp at an angle, Ryder prayed to the powers that be that none of the Kett would turn around. 

They weren’t listening. 

“Drop!” Vetra shouted behind her. Ryder threw herself forward, getting an icy faceful of dirty snow as shots rang out over her head. The rapid fire told her that Vetra had switched to automatic. Four Kett staggered or dropped. Drack surged forward when the assault rifle stopped, finishing them off with his shotgun. 

He waved them forward, calling, “Move it!” Ryder pushed herself to her feet, grateful for all the pressups Reyes had made her do, and scrambled for the trap door. Peebee was right on her heels as she skidded to a stop and practically threw herself down the ladder.

Vetra followed them, then Drack, who pulled the door shut after him and turned the wheel set into the underside. “Gotta love a good old-fashioned manual lock,” the mercenary said gruffly. 

Ryder didn’t answer, too busy trying to see if anyone was coming down the long, dark corridor and breathe through the stitch in her side. Flipping her scanner to look for infrared signatures, she gasped, “SAM, anyone else here?”

“Only us, Pathfinder.”

They’d made it. She just hoped Reyes wasn’t paying the price.

“Let’s find a computer. There’s got to be one here.” Ryder strode ahead, setting a quick pace as much to outrun the fears that he’d be dead in the snow - or worse - as to get everyone moving. 

Everything they passed looked as though it had lain unused for years. Footsteps and trails through thick dust and dirt showed where the Kett had been. Generators powered lamps that shone on cracked concrete walls, some coated in slime or showing the limestone crusts of past water damage. The air was musty, with the distasteful dampness that Ryder associated with basement flats in London.

For all it was evident that the Kett had been here, none made an appearance now. Ryder lost track of time in the monotonous corridors, feeling like they had been wandering for hours, furtively traversing a complex of unknown size. Some doors stood open to show research labs, the equipment either trashed or missing, with drag marks gouged in the ground where heavier pieces had been removed. Other rooms looked like offices, or meeting spaces.

They came to a closed door where foot traffic through the grime on the floor was heavier than it had been in other places and Ryder paused to let SAM scan the area. “There are electronics in this room, Pathfinder,” the AI told her. 

The door was locked but Vetra’s lockpicking skills made quick work of opening it. “Fuck yes,” Ryder whispered as rows of servers were revealed, their blue lights beckoning them forward. 

Remembering her mistake on Archon’s ship, Ryder scanned the room and waited for SAM’s all-clear before darting forward. _Even better than a terminal_ , she thought gleefully, plopping onto the floor and digging her heavy-duty tablet and portable keyboard out of her pack. A bit of creative wiring linked her to the system. “Alright, SAM, let’s crack this fucker.”

“Why would they leave computers? Isn’t that dangerous?” Peebee asked as Ryder rolled her shoulders. “Someone like, I dunno, Ryder, could come along.”

Vetra snorted derisively. “Fairly typical for governments. If the cost of moving a thing exceeds the depreciated value of the item, they leave it behind. I saw it all the time on the one military tour I did before getting sick of the waste.”

Focusing on her hack enabled Ryder to push the chatter behind her and the parallels to their last mission out of her mind. This was even more difficult than Archon’s system had been, but she’d had six weeks to train and improve her AI partner. Still, time weighed oppressively as the minutes dragged on. 

“How’s it coming, kid?” Drack poked. “We don’t have all day.”

“Patience is a virtue…” Ryder sing-songed in reply with half a mind. Grumbling behind her told her what everyone’s opinion of that was, but she ignored it. _Almost there_. 

The first layer of security fell. Then the second. Ryder was starting to wonder how many there would be after the third when the system signalled all clear. “I’m in,” she announced tersely, digging around in her pack for a spare data drive and plugging that in. 

A quick look told her that someone had attempted to wipe the servers and done a shitty job of it. She recovered all that she could and then started a download to the external drive. 

SAM informed her that the file transfer would complete in five minutes. Ryder cursed, but there was nothing she could do about it. _In the meantime...what can I find that might have interested Archon?_

She started opening random files inside a folder labelled “Admin”, searching for anything about Meridian. One had an extra layer of security, a dead giveaway that it was important, and she turned her attention to cracking it.

Her download was nearly complete when SAM’s password-breaking process succeeded. “Motherfucking shit,” Ryder growled as the file revealed its secrets. “This isn’t Meridian. This is just a secondary research and development facility.” She waved a hand at the confused voices behind her, skimming through the rest of the information as quickly as she could. “The real Meridian is somewhere else. A codenamed location called Ark.” She slumped back, disappointment settling over her shoulders like a lead jacket. Her one lead to what Archon was trying to find and it wasn’t even here. 

“Transfer complete,” SAM informed her. Ryder disconnected the data drive and shoved it back in her pack as she ordered SAM to upload a worm, set a trap, and re-encrypt the system. Whatever work the Kett had done in their own efforts to hack these servers would be undone and a successful further attempt would deliver Ryder’s tracking malware before melting down the servers. Hers would be the only remaining copy of whatever had been stored here.

Rising, she waved to her team, shooing them ahead of her. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

They didn’t run into any Kett as they escaped the facility through a different trapdoor than they’d entered. Drack wondered aloud where everyone was and the whole squad was on edge by the time they found an exit.

The answer became clear when they scrambled out and started running, skidding to a halt when SAM alerted Ryder to heat signatures in the trees. Barely able to breathe at the idea of the Kett capturing her again, Ryder frantically signalled everyone to change direction and hauled ass. 

They climbed over a huge fallen log, huddling down. Ryder peeked over it once she’d caught her breath, biting her tongue as a squad of _gendarmes_ poured into the clearing they’d just vacated. The heavily-armed police burst out of the woods, rifles at the ready and shouting briskly in French. They kept checking their wrists and one looked up in their direction. 

Ryder threw herself on the ground. “Ghost Storm, Peebee!” she hissed, assuming that they had infrared camera feeds built into their helmet-mounted cameras.

The shouting in the clearing became urgent. Ryder risked another peek, relieved to find the _gendarmes_ setting up defensive positions. “Move!” she hissed, taking off. 

They stopped to breathe and get their bearings when Ryder tripped over a branch in exhaustion and went sprawling in the snow. “SAM?” she gasped, gulping sharp lungfuls of cold air. 

“Official frequencies remain at the clearing. The visitor centre is three kilometres southwest.” 

If she had had the breath, Ryder would have cursed a blue streak at the mere _idea_ of more running. As it was, she accepted Vetra’s hand up, checked their direction, and started moving again. 

It took longer than it should have for them to reach the visitor centre. Vetra had pointed out that if there were cameras, it might raise questions for them to return to the car from a different direction than they’d left it and they’d looped around to roughly the same heading. Ryder was thoroughly exhausted by the time the parking lot came into view. 

She stopped short, stumbling a step and staring blankly at the sight of Reyes laying a tarp over the roof the Land Rover, a smallish spotted deer with wide antlers lying alongside the vehicle. Blood stained the shoulders of his camo jacket.

“There you are!” Vetra called out, as though they’d simply gotten separated in the woods. Drack elbowed Ryder and she moved forward automatically. 

“Sorry,” Reyes called back in Anubis’ voice. “I couldn’t find you after following this one and my phone died, so I headed back.” His eyes darted over the group until they found her and his shoulders dropped away from his ears.

After storing the unlicensed gear back in its hidden section in the gear trunk, Drack helped Reyes get his kill onto the roof and tie it down. Ryder got in and turned on the engine, dragging off her gloves and activating the seat heat against the chill of cold leather.

“Really?” she asked when Anubis slid into the driver's seat. He glanced at her with the sideways look he used when trying to be subtle about reading someone, then shrugged. “It would look suspicious if we came in to hunt and left before getting anything. We can say we decided to leave with one when we heard unusual shots.” Tightness around the corners of his eyes betrayed him and Ryder leaned to try looking him in the face as he put the Land Rover in gear. 

“What else?” she prompted. Reyes avoided looking at her as he reversed and pulled out onto the main road.

After a minute of silence, he said, “I went back for the casings but couldn’t recover the bullets, so I altered the barrel of the rifle and the silencer. A bullet shot after the alteration is still in the deer. If the rifle is confiscated, they’ll find the one in the deer matches the rifle, but not the ones in the Kett.” Another pause, just long enough for Ryder to realise Vetra and Drack had also fired their weapons. “Don’t worry, I did the same to Vetra and Drack’s guns,” he added when she opened her mouth to ask. 

Sliding down in her seat, Ryder muttered, “Fucking hell, Reyes.” _He really does think of everything_. She bit her tongue to avoid adding _You’re scary_ and reached for his thigh. “Thank you,” she said instead, squeezing it. “We got everything we could and we couldn’t have done it without you.” That was all that mattered in the end.

***

An hour later, Ryder stepped out of the shower and reached for her towel, drying with quick movements. They’d been thoroughly questioned on leaving the reserve and Ryder hadn’t needed to hide her nervousness at admitting they’d heard automatic gunfire in the woods. Anubis had wrapped his arm around her, giving the impression of a man putting on a brave face for his woman, and said something to direct attention to the deer on his roof. 

The rifles on top of the false bottom had been inspected, with only the one showing evidence of having been fired. Those in the hidden section hadn’t been discovered. Ryder’s skin had crawled at Anubis’ watchful wariness as the _gendarmes_ swabbed the guns and checked the bullet calibers before making a note and waving them through the barricade set up at the exit. She wasn’t sure who had gotten luckier - them, or the _gendarmes_.

As she started rubbing lotion into her skin Drack’s voice rang out from downstairs, muffled somewhat by the door but still audible. “Kid! Ryder! Get down here!” 

Grabbing her towel, Ryder wrapped it around herself, ran out of the bathroom, and thundered down the stairs. She’d never heard the old man raise his voice outside of a fight and her stomach churned at what it might mean. 

The team was gathered in the living room, gazes fixed on whatever was on the screen. Peebee was covering her mouth, Vetra toyed with her ponytail, and Drack just scowled. “What? What’s -” Then her brain caught up with what her eyes were seeing on the telly and the world spun. 

Rioters throwing stones and debris outside the House of Parliament in London, an entrance to Westminster Tube station aflame, smashed windows, placards bearing hateful messages of anti-immigrant nationalism. And then there was Scott, reporting live in the thick of it as armed response police with riot shields moved in to kettle the angry crowd, trying to push them away from the burning Underground. 

Everything spun as Ryder forgot to breathe. Hands landing on her shoulders from behind startled her into gasping and she nearly dropped her towel. “Easy, _pajarillo_ ,” Reyes murmured, squeezing. 

“But what is he _doing_ there! He’s a fucking web journalist! He’s supposed to be at his desk _writing_ , not in a fucking urban war zone! What the fuck is _wrong_ with these people?”

As the words left Ryder’s mouth, a hooded figure slunk up behind her brother and she watched, horrified, as it swung a makeshift club at the back of his head. The camera wobbled as he dropped and the channel switched back to the studio, but not before Ryder had gotten a glimpse at the bony spurs on the hand wielding the club.

The Kett had gotten to Scott.


	22. Hostage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team races back to London and gets a clue to Scott's situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait on these last chapters. Life (and the fandom) keeps hitting the fan. I'm determined to finish this story though! Thank you, thank you, thank you, if you're still here.

One of the things Ryder loved most about Reyes was that he knew when to keep his mouth shut. 

The drive back to London was eight hours, even with Reyes pushing the speed limit as much as he dared with illegal and unlicensed weapons hidden in the boot of his car. He held his tongue until the ferry at Calais, asking only if she needed anything when he got out of the car to get...something. She was sure he’d told her what, but she’d been buried in her laptop across the length of France, tethering the device to the data on her mobile as she scoured the internet and the dark web for something, anything about Scott.

All she found were reports of spiraling riots spreading to the other major city centres, murders in the street, ethnic corner stores and anyone with an accent targeted for violence. 

_Shit, Reyes_. 

As soon as her boyfriend said anything on the street in London, he’d be a target. Even flawless English wouldn't mitigate his Spanish accent in this situation. Vetra and Drack, too; they had faint but noticeable Baltic and German inflections. Nearly everyone she cared about would be a target when the ferry docked. With her brother kidnapped it was another blow and she slumped in the plush leather seat, rubbing her forehead and fighting back the clutching fingers of despair.

Ryder jumped at a knock on the window. Her hand shook as she stabbed at the button to roll it down. “Come on out,” Reyes murmured, gaze darting around the deck that held the cars. Ryder evaluated the space anew, seeing the dangers through his eyes. Open space, but lots of shadowed areas. It must be a hitman’s paradise for him to be this alert. “Close the laptop for ten minutes and get some air.” He held two paper cups, the one closer to her smelling of the milky tea she only drank when she was upset. 

The scent was what stopped her from snarling at him, snapping for him to go away, that she was busy trying to save Scott. Taking a deep, wavering breath, she forced her hand to the door latch. Pulled it. Slid down from the high seat to the metal deck, shuddered at the echoed memory of the sound her feet had made when she’d boarded Archon’s ship. Fisting her hands, Laz clenched her teeth and closed her eyes.

She wasn’t on Archon’s ship. She was on a ferry, with Reyes, returning to London as quickly as she could to rescue her twin. She had to be strong, for all of them.

Reyes kept his distance, waiting patiently until Ryder opened her eyes to meet his. For the first time since she’d met him, she couldn’t tell if she was looking at Reyes or Anubis. The blank impassivity of his overall expression was Anubis, but the tight jaw and pained eyes screamed of a Reyes desperate to comfort her. 

Ryder gritted her teeth and extended a hand for the tea, but didn’t give in to the urge to fold herself into his arms, to borrow his strength. She couldn’t, or the thin barrier of self-control would shatter - and then who would rescue Scott?

The pain in her lover’s eyes subsided as she took a fortifying swig of her tea, his true feelings buried under the chill of Anubis. Ryder felt her shoulders drop a half a centimetre as confidence started to return. Reyes could take care of himself, had done on his own long before he’d met her. She didn’t need to worry about keeping him safe. He was already taking his safety, and likely hers, onto his own shoulders. 

Remembering what she’d seen in the woods, the concrete evidence that Reyes could more than handle himself, sent a wave of relief crashing over Ryder. Relief mixed with desperation to become recklessness. 

Arm extended to protect her tea, she pressed herself against Anubis, kissing him deeply as she hooked her leg over his hip and pulled him to her. They fell back against the side of the Land Rover as he devoured her mouth in turn. She bit his lip, tasting blood, and pushed her tongue into his mouth. Anubis groaned.

“Fuck me. Now. In the car,” Ryder demanded, her voice half a whisper against his lips. There were too many unknowns and she needed him _right now_ , needed the certainty of his love and desire. 

The sound of his coffee resting on the roof of the car accompanied the faint creak of the rear door opening, and Ryder broke their kiss to reach up and set her tea alongside it before maneuvering around the open door and sliding back into the rear of the car. Anubis took a last look around the deck before his touch grew rough. Shutting the door behind them, he forced her down against the backseat with a hand on her throat, his teeth at her neck providing a sharp contrast to the smooth leather against her back as he tugged her shirt off. 

“Someone could see,” he warned her in a low growl between nips at her collarbone. 

“If I gave a shit, I wouldn’t have told you to fuck me,” Ryder countered. She needed this. The last five hours had been devoted to finding her brother. The two hours it would take to reach Dover, she could give to the only man - the only person - who had ever truly given himself to her. 

Anubis took her at her at her word, then took her pussy as well. In movements too quick for Ryder to follow, he had her leather trousers around her thighs and her knees hoisted up to her ears. After that, there was only the ecstasy of his cock in her, the sure, steady strokes of his hips and his grip around her throat as he drove away every other worry.

Ryder lost herself in the press of his body, the sharp pinch on her nipples. Her orgasm crested, then his in the drive of his body against hers. He left a mark on her throat, she was sure, but Ryder welcomed it. Whatever the result of their return to London, she wanted the connection with Reyes, or Anubis, or whichever of the two was fucking her. Anything could happen between then and now. 

It already had with Scott and as the last of her climax shuddered over her, Laz realized anew that she didn’t want to be without Reyes. 

“Whatever happens, you’re the love of my life. Don’t fucking forget it,” she growled around a knot in her throat. “And don’t -” The words choked her. _Don’t get kidnapped, too. Don’t die on me_.

Savage confidence made Anubis’ golden gaze shine. “I will kill anyone who tries to take one of us from the other.” The utter surety ignited twin flames of hope and purpose where fear and despair had been gnawing at Ryder’s heart. She pushed up and straddled his lap, trying to tell him with eager kisses what his promise meant to her. 

A sharp tap on the glass startled them both. “Oi! I dunno wot you lot are doing in there, but I’m gonna need you to join the rest of the passengers on the upper deck. You can’t be down ‘ere while we’re underway.” The rough voice belonged to a man in the uniform of the ferry’s crew and he was peering into the heavily shaded windows. “We’re coming!” Ryder sang out as he prepared to rap again. The ferryman stepped back, arms folded, watching suspiciously as he waited for them to clean up, scramble into their trousers, and exit the Land Rover.

“Sorry, mate,” Ryder apologised, smiling as innocently as she knew how, only to stick her tongue out at the man’s back when he rolled his eyes and ambled away. After retrieving their cups from the roof and Ryder’s laptop from the front seat, the two headed up to the passenger deck. 

Peebee smirked when they reached the table the rest of the team had secured at the back of the concessions area. “It’s less obvious what you’ve been doing when you fix your hair,” she teased, grinning at Ryder. Ryder scowled and combed her hair back into place with her fingers; Anubis was too busy scanning the room to react. 

“Scooch,” Ryder muttered at Peebee. The other woman shifted down the bench to make room for Ryder. Flipping open her laptop, Ryder stared at the blank screen before shutting it again and pillowing her head in her arms on the table. 

“Any luck, kid?” Drack’s gravelly voice asked. 

Ryder shook her head without lifting it. “No,” she admitted, dispirited all over again. Sitting up, she leaned back and sighed, speaking low to avoid being overheard. “I’ve cracked the cameras on the street he was reporting from and followed them to the Cenotaph before they just disappear. Too many people, too much movement. Even SAM’s facial recognition can’t find them. I tried increasing the search area...nothing. I haven’t even gotten a ransom demand.”

Drack glanced up at Anubis, who was frowning. “You thinking what I’m thinking, runt?” the old man rumbled. Anubis frowned harder, annoyed as usual at Drack’s nicknames, then shrugged. “It’s the likeliest explanation.”

“What is? What are you two talking about?” Ryder asked. Anubis motioned for her to open the laptop. “Show me where you lost them,” he ordered, leaning over Ryder with one hand on the table and the other on her shoulder. With another huffed sigh, Ryder pulled up the CCTV image. 

Scott, conscious but bloodied, stumbled in the grips of two large men on either side of him. Waiting for them at the next corner was a tall figure. He was hooded, but Ryder had seen enough of Archon to recognise him. The ridged crown of his bare scalp made a particularly memorable impression.

Anubis grunted. “They’ve gone underground.” 

_Underground?_ “How -” Upbeat EDM cut Ryder off and she fished in her jacket pocket for her mobile. “Scott,” she breathed, feeling the blood drain from her face as she saw the caller ID. Bodily pushing Anubis out of the way, Laz shoved out the door and into the cold sea air to find a quieter place to answer the phone. 

“Scott?” she hissed, gripping the railing. 

“Sis! Are you okay? Are you -” Scott’s question cut off with a thud she could barely hear over the wind and a louder groan. “Tell her!” a rough voice commanded. Laz recognized it immediately. Archon. 

“That motherfucker! Scott, did he hurt you? Did he -”

Scott broke in, sounding pained. “Lazuli, I’ve been kidnapped by some freaky-looking wankers.” He was _pissed_ if he was swearing; she was the sweary twin. If he was angry, he was still okay. Laz squeezed the railing and forced herself to breathe as Scott continued. “They want you to bring Meridian and the data drive to the Churchill War Rooms at Westminster. They say that if you don’t, they’ll inject me with whatever is in this fuck-off massive syringe. Do you know what they’re talking about? What the hell is going on?”

The breaths Laz had been forcing froze in her throat. _Give Archon the means to make more of his followers into genetic mutations, or he does it to my brother_. “I understand,” she whispered.

A rustling in the speaker signalled the phone changing hands. “We were looking for you, Pathfinder.” Laz shuddered, stomach churning at Archon’s voice in her ear. “My little friends recorded enough of a biosignature that we found your brother - a twin? Before you managed to excise them. A surprising feat for one so lowly as yourself. One that won’t be possible for your brother. Bring me what I want. I’m sure I don’t have to worry about your calling the police. You have one day.”

The call ended and Laz’ knees gave out. Her grip on the railing was the only thing that kept her from folding completely to the metal deck and the cold wind bit at the tear tracks making their way down her cheeks. 

“What did he say?” Anubis asked from behind her. Ryder gasped, not having heard his approach, and scrubbed at her face as she pushed herself to her feet. “They’re going to inject Scott with the nanites if I don’t bring Meridian to the Churchill War Rooms in one day. I don’t even know where the fucking War Rooms are, and I sure as shit can’t deliver Meridian when I don’t know where Ark is! And I mean Jesus how am I going to explain all this to Scott?”

Closing her eyes, Ryder tried to catch her breath. Strong hands squeezed her shoulders and rubbed along her arms. “One thing at a time, Ryder. If he thinks you have Meridian, then he doesn’t know what it is or that Ark is a place. Set it aside.”

Panic sent Ryder’s heart racing. She’d taken care of her two-minutes-younger brother first through their mother’s death, then through their father’s. _This is my fault. He’s my responsibility. I promised Mum!_

“ _Then how am I going to get Scott back?!_ ” 

“Laz!” Anubis said sharply. “Look at me.” Ryder opened her eyes, unable to resist the command in his voice. “Breathe,” he ordered. “And then _think_.” He waited until she had taken a few gulping breaths of wet sea air before continuing. “We both know you wouldn’t give him Meridian even if you had it, so you don’t need it. We’ll get it later. Set that aside.”

His voice lowered further as he glanced around. “We know he’s underground. The War Rooms are down the street from where you lost them on CCTV. The part that’s open to the public as a museum is a small portion of a larger network. I’ve used the tunnels for...business...and there’s an access on that corner.” 

Ryder’s thoughts spun as she scrambled to assemble these new pieces of the puzzle. “Wait. You smuggled in _Westminster_?” 

The sly grin that crossed Anubis’ face didn’t reach his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe what I have on some of our upstanding politicians.” 

Shaking her head, Ryder decided she wasn’t surprised. _Focus!_ “Okay. Okay, you’re right. I can’t help Scott if I don’t think.” In many ways and for many reasons, Laz resented and disliked her twin - but she would never stop protecting him. “But Reyes...I don’t want you involved. If Scott finds out about S - about that thing…”

“I’ll help from behind the scenes. It’s where I work best.” 

She doubted that after what she'd seen in the woods but that wasn't what made Ryder hesitate. Reyes had every reason not to help a journalist who could expose his more illicit business, or he could simply decide he’d had enough of spending his time and money - not to mention risking his life - for her projects. “You’re sure?” Ryder asked. “You’ve already done so much.” 

“And profited from it, with more to come once we find Meridian. Right?” Ryder nodded enthusiastically; as far as she was concerned everything there was his. Anubis’ smile grew. “Then we’re helping each other. The stakes are just a little higher now.” He snorted, looking amused. “Besides, I’m not worried about Scott’s investigations.” 

Laz wasn’t quite as certain as Anubis seemed to be that Scott should be so quickly discounted, but it was a worry she’d gladly have once they’d gotten him back. Throwing her arms around his broad shoulders, she whispered, “I love you more than I can say.”

“All or nothing,” he murmured, echoing what she’d said when she’d told him of her plan to quit the Initiative as his embrace enveloped her. “We’ll get Scott back. Then we’ll get Meridian and the world will be ours.” 

Ryder couldn’t answer. She could only squeeze him harder.


	23. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final showdown with Archon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for descriptions of canon-typical violence.

Getting to the warehouse that would serve as the staging area put every single one of Reyes’ nerves on edge. Ryder had taken the wheel of the Land Rover from Dover while Peebee had driven the SUV with the rest of the team. Their accents were the most British of the group, and after yet another video of foreign-accented people being set upon in the streets while they counter-protested the violence, all had agreed it was best if Ryder and Peebee do the talking until they reached London. 

Which meant, for Reyes, being unable to use one of his greatest gifts: the power of persuasion. 

That in turn meant that rather than talking or bribing their way through the checkpoints set up around the area stretching in an arc across Embankment, Westminster, and St James’s Park, Reyes had to bite his tongue while Ryder hacked CCTV and then bullied or beat her way past checkpoints until they made it beyond the protective cordon. 

The section of the city that served as the seat of government was a wasteland. Broken windows yawned with sharp glass teeth, spilling looted goods in a trail showing the path the thieves had taken. Fire danced in every bin and across stacks of burning tyres set up to blockade streets leading to the residential flats of the wealthy, painting the underbellies of the clouds streaking the night sky a livid red. Soot blackened the white stone buildings and thickened the air. Car alarms wailed while sirens screamed, and the only people breaking curfew were themselves and the rioters.

From the sound of it, a running battle was crashing through St James’s Park; Ryder had wisely steered them away from the stern orders amplified by loud-hailers and the shouted jeers that roared in reply, followed by gunshots. The only benefit to the chaos was that the main forces of armed response units seemed to be concentrated on defending 10 Downing Street, Buckingham Palace, and the Palace of Westminster. Their small, careful party, moving in three squads led by Ryder, Avitus, and Reyes’ man Urrego, took an hour to cross a distance that could normally be walked in ten minutes.

Ryder wanted to press on immediately once they’d reached Reyes’ warehouse. “We’re wasting _time_. My brother -”

“Will not be helped if you make a mistake out of exhaustion before reaching him,” Reyes snapped as he barricaded the street-level door behind them, his tongue finally freed. “We have fifteen hours. You can rest for at least two.” 

“He has a point, kid,” Drack broke in as Ryder’s brows lowered. “We’ve been on the road for most of a day.” Faced with Drack’s implacability and Reyes’ logic, Ryder made a disgusted sound and threw her hands up. Reyes signalled Urrego to have his combat team rest before following Ryder to the corner she’d stalked to and was huddled in, head down on her knees. 

Crouching, Reyes murmured her name, taken aback by the raw pain in her eyes when she looked at him. “If he’s dead, if he’s injected with nanites because we stopped for _two fucking hours_ -” She cut off to slap away the hand he extended. 

“If Archon was going to inject him, it’s already done,” Reyes pointed out mercilessly, keeping his voice low to avoid the appearance of usurping her command. Ryder's pain flashed to horror and Anubis took over. He couldn’t knowingly cause her this hurt as Reyes, but she needed to hear this. “Do you really think Archon will wait a day just because he said he would? Two hours will not make a difference except to improve your odds. If Scott is already infected, we’ll have to stop his heart to get them out whether we get there right now or a few hours from now. If he’s not, then letting your body rest could give you the edge to get him and your team out safely.”

Ryder dropped her head again, not agreeing but not fighting him. She accepted his hand this time, allowing Anubis to turn her and pull her back to his chest as he settled against the wall. It wasn’t comfortable for him, given the solidity of the concrete wall and floor, but he would be waiting here while she went in after Scott. “Close your eyes,” he murmured. “Even if your mind doesn’t sleep, your body needs the rest.” 

She didn’t respond but for the single tear leaking from behind her eyelids to trace a path down her cheek.

***

Two and a half hours later, Reyes watched Ryder as she geared up, proud of the brisk way she checked her pistol’s magazine and holstered the weapon. He’d taught her those skills. She’d used them to survive before and would again today. Worry for her safety ate at the back of his mind, and probably always would, but he’d done what he could to empower her to protect herself. 

The poor light in the warehouse gave Ryder’s features an eerie cast. Her turquoise gaze was hard when she looked up, softening only slightly at finding him watching. “I’ll be fine,” she promised in a low voice. Reyes didn’t reply, catching the faint tremor in her hands. Even with the forced rest, she was still running mainly on adrenaline and nerves and energy drinks.

“Tell me the plan again,” he replied, raising his brows when she rolled her eyes in exasperation. 

With a put-upon sigh, Ryder ran through the plan they’d come up with on the tense drive between Dover and London. “We take the tunnels toward the War Rooms. When we get close, we send out Peebee’s spiderbots and use the scanners to pick up any signs. When we find them, Hayjer and I hack security. Drack, Vederia, and Avitus take point to secure the room. Vetra darts Scott with Urrego's tranquilizer so he doesn't recognize us. Peebee keeps the assholes busy with drones while Drack grabs Scott and gets the fuck out. Urrego’s team keeps our way back clear.” 

Her face hardened again and Anubis stirred as she added, “When Scott’s safe, I kill that son of a bitch.” That hadn’t been part of the plan, but Anubis approved. Catching Pathfinder by the hair at the nape of her neck, he pulled her head back to look at him. “Kill him. But come back alive.” She pressed her lips to his before tearing away.

“Let’s go!” she snapped to her waiting team. Hayjer, Avitus, and Vederia fell in beside Drack, Vetra, and Peebee with Urrego’s team taking up the rear, all following Ryder to the heavy door set in the floor. Anubis had created his own private access to the aging tunnel system years ago; the expense and difficulty had more than paid off in successful smuggling deals and political blackmail. A ladder would take them down into a Tube line abandoned due to recurring floods, which would connect them to a supposedly-sealed tunnel that was part of the larger-than-advertised network connected to the War Rooms. Fortunately, the Thames was at low tide and they wouldn’t be fighting the river as well as the Kett.

Ryder was the last one down. “I’ll come back,” she promised. “Alive. With Scott.” 

“I know. And I’ll be waiting,” he replied. With a last long look, Ryder followed her team down the ladder. 

A pair of overturned crates served Anubis as a desk and chair. As he sat atop the one that wasn’t supporting a laptop, Reyes settled in for what he anticipated would be a long few hours as coordinator for the three squads. There would be boredom while they searched the tunnels, then the frantic stress of translating the views from different camera feeds into actions for the team once they found Scott and Archon. SAM would help, fortunately, the main version of the AI set to accept commands from Reyes as well as Ryder while the reduced version guided the Pathfinder squad and added to the search capabilities.

When he checked in, Ryder’s husky voice came back immediately. “Pathfinder One, I hear you loud and clear. Reminds me of our first job together.” 

Reyes snorted, remembering who they’d been almost a year ago: a cocky but naive hacker and a savvy manipulator who underestimated what partnering with this woman would mean. “Always at your back.”

***

After an hour slogging through damp tunnels, the Pathfinder squad caught a break. “Got something,” Avitus muttered, the radio crackling as the depth and distance interfered with reception. “Blood, maybe, smeared on the wall. SAM, can you confirm?” 

No-one spoke while the AI crunched the sensory input. 

“Blood confirmed. I am ninety percent certain that it belongs to Jasper Scott Ryder,” SAM’s synthetic voice informed them. 

_This is it_ , Reyes thought, shaking himself and standing to stretch. “Team one, team three -”

“We’ve got Kett!” Vederia interrupted just as Reyes caught a glimpse of one on the feed from her body camera. The staccato crack of gunfire burst over the comm. Scanning the other camera feeds, he caught sight of more. 

“Team two surrounded. Team one, head east. Team three, head west. Watch your flanks,” Reyes barked. 

It was a near thing, with Hayjer taking a graze to the thigh and Avitus a solid knock to the head, but the other two teams arrived in time to fight the Kett off. 

“They’ll know we’re here, now,” Ryder snarled. “Peebee, get those bots out. Pathfinders, scanners up. We need to move.” 

Reyes watched as Peebee’s spiders scuttled into the darkness. Vetra tended Hayjer’s leg while they waited.

A chirp down the corridor signalled the teams that one of the bots had discovered something. Reyes focused on Ryder’s bodycam as it bobbed with her running footsteps. “There’s a door,” she whispered, waving everyone back. “Fresh footprints and scuffs in the dirt. Hayjer, we’re up.” 

“Team three, hold their back door open,” Reyes ordered as the hacker and the engineer crouched to scan for traps. Urrego’s team backed off to either end of the corridor, hunkering down.

“I think we’re clear,” Hayjer said briskly. “Low-tech setup. Rush job.” 

Ryder tapped a few more keys. “Agreed, I’ve got nothing. Vetra, Avitus, Drack?”

Watching from the other camera angles, Reyes saw Vetra unsling the tranquilizer gun Urrego had brought on Reyes’ request as Drack stomped forward. “Coming through!” the old man hollered as he charged the rotting door. Reyes winced, but if they’d ever had the element of surprise it was probably long lost. 

Drack’s bellowed “Yaaaaah!” and accompanying shotgun blasts abruptly cut off. Reyes muttered a curse when he tapped to enlarge the feed from Drack’s cam and saw why.

Archon held Scott in front of him, the largest syringe Reyes had ever seen brandished as a weapon at the man’s neck. _Is that what he used on Laz?!_

Call your people off, Pathfinder,” the cult leader ordered. “And hand over Meridian. This one goes free when I reach the surface.” Something about his voice raised every hair on Reyes’ neck and Anubis came crashing to the fore. This was the fucker who had forced him to kill Laz. _You’re a dead man, Archon, if I have to hunt you to hell and back_. 

Ryder’s cam drew closer as she pushed forward. “Let him go,” she growled, rage distorting her voice so much that Anubis barely recognised it. The hazy view in the camera showed Scott frowning in confusion. 

"What do we do?” Avitus asked. 

Anubis held his breath, transfixed by the standoff. He knew what he would do...but would Laz risk her brother by taking the shot? 

Her gun swinging up gave him his answer. Archon snarled and stabbed the needle into Scott’s neck. The bang of Ryder’s Eagle echoed in the small room. Scott cried out and dropped, a spray of red splashing from his temple.

And Archon fell, a neat hole in the right side of his forehead. It was the best shot Anubis had ever seen her make. 

Laz’ camera jerked wildly as she dropped her pistol and scrambled to her brother’s side. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_!” She yanked the syringe from his neck and threw it aside before covering the head wound with her hands. “I’m sorry, Jazzy, I’m sorry, don’t die on me, please don’t die on me.”

Hers was the only voice on the radio. The rest of the squad stood as dumbstruck as Anubis himself. _I didn’t think she’d do it. Jesus, have I created another me?_

“ _Help me!_ ” Laz screamed, and Vetra jolted into action, dropping the tranquilizer gun and unslinging her pack. 

In the chaos, Anubis shook himself and quietly ordered Urrego in Spanish to collect the syringe and double-tap Archon. If they didn’t find Meridian, he wanted to have something to research and he wanted to be certain that this particular threat was eliminated. Three more shots rang out and Anubis coldly watched Urrego’s camera feed as a hole opened in Archon’s chest, then as the top of his head splattered.

Anubis didn’t care what genetic improvements Archon had made to himself; there was no coming back from that. If Laz woke from nightmares again, he’d have this certainty to offer her. “Burn it all when you leave. No body, no evidence,” he ordered. There was no such thing as overkill when it came to keeping Laz safe. Urrego confirmed and backed away, waiting for everyone else to get out. 

Switching back to English, Anubis coordinated the team’s retreat, sending the Pathfinders ahead to sweep for any remaining Kett while Urrego’s team covered the Ryders. Vetra bandaged Scott’s head with quick movements and Drack hoisted the unconscious man over his shoulder. It was less than ideal to have blood running to his head, but it would be worse if Kett or government forces caught them here. Speed was of the essence.

As the team made its way back Anubis steeled himself to deal with the fallout if Laz lost the last family member she had left, shot by her own hand. 

***

Getting a wounded and unconscious journalist out of the cordoned-off area would have been far more difficult than getting in had been were it not for a brilliant idea from Vetra. 

“We haul him out in plain sight,” she suggested. “Look, there’s random pieces of police and emergency services kit everywhere outside. It’s a street war with the rioters. Do you think anyone is going to notice that I don’t have a ‘POLICE’ patch on my back? Or do you think they’ll see an orderly, professional squad,” here she indicated Urrego’s team, “protecting an ambulance crew evacuating a journalist that everyone saw clobbered on live telly? There’s enough soot and smoke that nobody will question balaclavas, goggles, and face masks. Scott’s out cold and his rescuers will just be unsung heroes of the riots. We get out and disappear after handing him over to the real paramedics.”

Anubis approved. He had no interest in being caught up and questioned; his survival depended upon Reyes Vidal and the extent and manner of his resources remaining unknown. 

"And then I can circle back for him as myself once I’ve created an alibi. I like it,” Ryder said. Her flat voice would have sounded controlled to everyone else, but Anubis heard the edge of panic in it. “Give me a minute to take down all the CCTV between here and the edge of the cordon.” 

Vederia shifted her feet. “But...doesn’t that mean there won’t be a record of the actual criminals?” Anubis slowly started to reach for the silenced Sidewinder pistol he had holstered under his left arm. He didn’t want to have to kill one of Ryder’s people, but he would not allow a misguided conscience to compromise him. Urrego, always attentive to his boss’ mood, shifted to cover the door. 

Ryder’s face was hard when she looked up from her laptop. “If it means getting this team and my brother out alive, so be it. Archon and the Kett with him are dead, their hideaway is burning, and the CCTV is our only loose end.”

At Vederia’s hesitation, Ryder sighed. “The TV cameras and photojournalists will have caught the worst of them, the ones who started everything. I will do what I can to track them down and anonymously provide evidence later. But right now, I have to focus on us. We have to get out of here before we’re discovered and we have to minimize the evidence tying us here. Okay?” 

Swallowing, Vederia nodded once. “Are we going to have a problem?” Ryder asked in the cold voice of Pathfinder, glancing past Vederia to Anubis. He could tell by the clench of her jaw that she’d noted the position of his arm, but she said nothing in warning 

“No, no problem. As long as we do something to help everyone later,” Vederia said stubbornly. Pathfinder nodded. “You have my word. London is my city and _everyone_ in it deserves a chance, not just the native-born citizens.” 

Vederia’s nod was surer this time. “Okay. I’m in.” 

_She would have let me do it_ , Anubis mused, easing his hand back to his side as Ryder gave instructions. He shouldn’t have been surprised; guilt was a powerful motivator for her and her brother’s head wound was her fault. Still...that marked twice today that she had made, or been prepared to make, the bloody choice. _No hesitation. Edinburgh and Archon’s ship have changed her. Interesting_. 

The squad dispersed to collect abandoned gear and an ambulance, and she knelt to check her brother’s pulse before closing her eyes. Fear filled them when she looked up at his footstep. “Was that wrong?” she whispered. “Reyes, I feel like I’m losing myself. But I have to save Scott. I had to take that shot, Archon said the trick we used wouldn’t work again, I’d rather he was dead than -” 

Anubis interrupted her babbling. “You’re not losing yourself, you’re growing as you realise what’s important. It’s never wrong to protect those you care about and who are trusting you to lead them out of a situation like this,” he assured her. “People like us don’t always have the luxury of riding in on white horses and saving the day the clean way. We do what we must for ourselves and those to whom we owe protection, first and foremost. I’m proud of you.” Proud was an understatement but he had a feeling she wasn't in the mood for praise. 

Ryder still didn’t look convinced. Anubis knelt beside her and turned her to face him with a light grasp on her chin. “Scott will live because of you. You created refugee centres, provided opportunities for thousands, saved the people on the _Paarchero_ , mended a decade-long feud with Morda, stopped the Kett from discovering the truth of Meridian, and killed Archon. How much more do you have to do? London may be our city, but _you are not responsible for everyone_. You can’t be. Take care of those closest to you, then worry about the rest when you can tackle the problem from a position of strength.” 

Turquoise eyes searched his face and she didn’t reply. Slowly, fear and doubt eased from her features and she leaned forward to kiss him. “You’re right. It’s just...these are hard choices.” A sad smile quirked the corner of her lip, the first curl of her lips Anubis had seen from her in at least a day. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you as my anchor.” Anubis kissed her forehead and sat back on his heels.

Reaching for her pack, Laz withdrew her laptop and frowned in concentration as her fingers danced over the keyboard. She froze when Scott groaned, panic flashing across her face, and Anubis slid away to a shadowed section of the warehouse. When her twin subsided without waking, Laz exhaled heavily and kept typing. 

“That should do it,” she muttered, snapping the computer shut and shoving it back in her pack. “Do we have everything?” 

Anubis had already cleaned up the scene with meticulous attention once the team had made it to the home stretch of tunnels but took another look around. “That’s everything.” 

Drack’s booming voice sounded from the doorway as he approached at a run to scoop up Scott. “Let’s go, kids. We’ve got an ambulance and some gear.”

Anubis pulled Pathfinder to her feet. She shouldered her pack and he grabbed his before they took off at a run. As he followed her out into the ashen dawn, Anubis reflected that he would never have guessed that the naive little hacker he’d met a year ago would become this dangerously capable operative and the only person he’d ever truly loved. 

He couldn’t wait to see what the future held for them as London’s secret masters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I named the twins Lazuli and Jasper after semi-precious stones. Laz and Jazz hahaha.
> 
> One more chapter left to go. Any burning questions?
> 
> If you're still reading...you da real MVP <3


	24. Meridian (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryder and Reyes with the aftermath of recent events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut at the end of this chapter, because I believe in going out with a bang ;).

Laz pushed through the faded curtain separating Scott’s bed from the rest of the room. He was the only occupant, but the curtain was closed to keep the more persistent of his cohorts in the press at bay. The discovery and identification of his unconscious body at the limits of the riot zone had been set upon as a minor miracle, the one speck of good news in all the horribleness. 

White bandages still swathed her brother’s head, despite his being pulled out of the induced coma he’d been in for just over a week. Laz’ stomach was in her throat as she looked at them, recalling what the doctor had said before allowing her to enter Scott’s room. 

“Whatever happened to him, it was a near thing. The bullet shaved a chunk out of his skull and likely would have killed him or left him braindead had it been half a centimetre to the right. Your brother is a lucky man.”

Laz shuddered. Scott wasn’t lucky; he wouldn’t even have been a target had it not been for her. _Lazuli_ , Reyes’ voice warned in her head, just as it had every time he’d caught her wallowing in her guilt. _You did what you had to do_. She held onto the reminder and wrapped it round her mind like a blanket.

Her twin stirred and she sat up straighter. “Scott?” she whispered. An eyelid fluttered, revealing a slit of hazel. “Sis,” Scott sighed. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” Laz said, hoping he wouldn’t hear the remorse closing her throat. “We need to stop doing this, Jazzy.” _Even if it’s my fault this time_. 

“Don’ call me tha’,” he slurred. “‘M not ten anymore.” 

Ten years old was probably the last time they’d been close and the memory of their escapades brought tears to Laz’ eyes. “I know,” she murmured. 

The twins sat in silence, Scott simply working on breathing and Laz drowning in her guilt. “Wha’...wha’ happ’n’d to…” Scott worked his mouth, frowning, and Laz squeezed his hand. “Nobody knows what happened with your kidnappers. All of them seem to have vanished in the aftermath of the riots.” 

Scott pursed his lips and subsided. Laz shifted in her seat before asking, “Do you...remember anything? About how you escaped?” _Escape, not rescue_ , she berated herself, hating what she was doing even as she saw the necessity of it for her and Reyes’ safety. _He can’t think he was rescued_.

Her brother frowned again. Opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again. A look of utter panic crossed his features and Laz patted his hand reassuringly. “Shh, it’s okay, Scott, it’s okay. The doctor said there might be some trouble with memory but they’re hopeful you’ll recover.”

 _Please don’t tell me I’ve taken my brother’s journalism career from him_ , she prayed to whatever powers might be listening. _Please let this be temporary and only cover his rescue_. 

A knock made Laz jump. The doctor let himself in before she could recover enough to answer. “Ms Ryder? Mr Ryder needs to rest now. You can come back tomorrow.” 

Laz leaned over to kiss her brother’s bandaged head before excusing herself and striding out. She rarely showed him any affection but at the end of the day, he was the only family she had left. 

_The only family...other than Reyes_. 

The thought hit her like a slap in the face as she drove her Tempest home. She narrowly missed being hit by a lorry, swerving as horns blared, and ran a red light, shocked into inattention. _Home. To Reyes’ house. Reyes is home?_

Although not the first time she’d had the thought or feeling, it was the first time there was this much urgency in the sensation. 

It scared the living shit out of her.

###

Ryder spent the two weeks following her visit with Scott locked in her home office, combing through every piece of data, every clue, to find Meridian. Reyes did what he could, fetching her out for meals and sleep and visits to Scott’s bedside. It became a daily ritual she scowled over but for which she saw the necessity. 

Something was off, something his instincts told him was more about them than Scott or Meridian or London burning, but she was laser-focused on her search and this was one of the rare times he found himself at a loss for words. 

He was reading Peebee’s preliminary report on the live nanites Urrego had recovered when a thunderous roll of wheels on hardwood accompanied Ryder’s triumphant whoop. 

“Reyes! It’s in Lyon! Ark is Lyon!” The heedless pound of running feet preceded Ryder’s appearance at his office door. 

“So we’re going back to France, then?” Reyes asked cautiously, mentally running through his schedule. Two meetings with Keema would need to be bumped, one with a biotech expert about the nanites, a fourth with the new London Dockmaster about a special rate on next year’s shipping fees…then there was the planning and preparation itself. They should be ready to go in three days. 

Ryder’s averted eyes and wince paused his preparations. 

“I’m leaving in the morning. With the team. I need you to stay here. You’re the only person I can trust to look after Scott. And we need to move _now_.” 

“Laz, Archon is dead. We can afford to be more cautious,” he argued. _Stay here?_

Her brows drew down in a muley expression and Reyes resigned himself to losing this one. “Exactly. He’s dead. What better time than now, before the Kett reorganise?” 

Reyes made a few token arguments before acceding. He was less than happy about being asked to stay in London in case something changed with Scott, but whatever had gotten into Ryder’s head was driving her with a fire like he’d never seen. That, and he still hadn't figured out how to ask what was wrong.

 _She is capable, has a good team, and won’t hesitate anymore_ , he reminded himself. _Set the rest aside for later_. “We’re playing when you get back,” he said aloud to save face in his capitulation and test her reaction. 

“You’d better make me beg,” she countered with a wicked grin. His heart skipped a beat. Maybe nothing was wrong with them after all.

The words tumbled through his mind during her absence. Focusing on that and throwing himself into his work were the only things that kept him from asking SAM to report on her. 

That, and she'd have his head for keeping tabs on her without asking.

Two days passed before Ryder's team even got to Lyon. She checked in when they got there and each evening for the next few days. After that was a day of silence that made him want to drink to calm himself even as he abstained in case he needed to follow her to Lyon for a rescue. 

Reyes was laying plans to go after her when his phone rang. “We got it, love,” Ryder’s excited voice said before he could even say hello. “We got it and _holy shit_ , you are not going to believe what it is. We’re on our way back.” 

That evening he did allow himself a glass of whiskey. The worry of not hearing from her on a mission was completely different from the time she’d fallen asleep while developing SAM and not answered her phone for two days. Then, she was within reach and he knew how to help. Now? He had to accept inaction as the only option until something changed.

 _This is what you signed up for. This is what all or nothing means. You give her space to her give her all, in whatever capacity she sees fit for herself, or you decide you would rather have nothing. You encouraged and supported her up to now. You can’t slap her down or cage her now that she isn’t staying at her desk and can carry out missions without you. She has grown. Have you?_ The whiskey-soaked thought struck him with the force of a freight train. An uncomfortable epiphany, but one he knew would have to be considered and accepted for things to work. 

The second epiphany, after a third glass of whiskey, was that he was more worried about Ryder returning safely than he was curious about what she had discovered in Lyon. _You’ve finally found someone who matters more to you than yourself and your interests. You can have her, and all the chaos and worry that comes along with her acceptance and vitality. Or you can go back to being alone. Everything under control...but empty._

He fell into a restless sleep on the couch not long before sunrise, haunted by nightmares of her back as she walked out the door.

***

Reyes jumped when Laz’ passkey sounded a welcome the next day, the chime ringing over the audio of the conference call in which he was silently participating.

“Reyes. _Reyes!_ ” Laz hollered. The door slammed and urgent steps stomped through the house. 

He took off at a run, call forgotten, the pistol he kept in his desk pointed skyward in a two-handed grip. Laz froze where she was, awkwardly stumbling to a stop, eyes widening at the sight of the gun. Confused, Reyes searched the door, then her body, then her face. When neither threat nor injury presented itself, he tucked the gun at the small of his back with a practiced movement and closed the distance between them. 

“What is it? Is Scott okay?” he asked, peering into her face. No, the doctor hadn’t called him, so it couldn’t be that. Whatever was wrong, he'd fix it. He'd lie, steal, kill - whatever it took for the nightmares of the previous evening not to become a reality. 

Ryder looked up at him with the perplexed expression she wore when she forgot her words. Had she always been this adorable under the toughness? “Laz?” he prodded. _Focus_. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and blurted, “I’m moving in. Today. Now.” 

Reyes felt his eyebrows shoot up and his jaw drop slightly as the pieces fell into place. _This is what was wrong. This is the real reason she insisted I stay behind_. His world reordered itself with dizzying speed. “Okay,” he said, blowing out a breath.

“Really?” Laz opened her eyes. Confusion, desire, fear, triumph, wariness...a series of conflicting expressions flickered in their turquoise depths before cautious hope won out. 

“Really,” he said. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, we can go now.” He’d had the logistics planned for months, just in case. When Laz decided she wanted to do something, she tended to crash through to the next steps like a rockslide down a mountain and wasn't quite as meticulous a planner as he. 

With a hop, Laz launched herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders as she buried her face in his neck. “I’m sure. Please. You...you’re home. I need home. I need you.” Reyes froze, sensing his life was about to change. All he had to do was grasp the opportunity as firmly as he held the woman in his arms.

Laz shook as hot tears dampened his shirt. _Why is she crying? Shit_. He moved them to the couch, easing down so he could focus on calming her rather than not dropping her. The woman had put on some muscle in the last few months; it wasn't as effortless to carry her as it had been.

“Shhh sh sh. Home isn’t the same without you, either. Everything will be fine,” he soothed, the words flying from his mouth before he'd had a chance to examine them and his mind scrambling for the various reasons she might be upset. “Scott will recover. He won’t find out it was you. And we’ll be happy here together.” 

She sobbed harder. Anger he could deal with, but she so seldom cried that he was at a loss here. _Was all of this in her before she left? I should have asked her what was wrong, I should have -_

Thought fled as her lips abruptly met his, fingers jerking open the buttons of his shirt. “Please,” she said, the word half a whisper against his mouth. 

This he knew. This he could deal with. 

Relief served as an aphrodisiac. Reyes shrugged out of his shirt and peeled Laz out of her jacket, kissing her again as he tossed it aside. She pulled her shirt over her head while he unhooked her bra, both garments dropping to the floor as he lowered his mouth to her pert nipples and sucked first on one, then the other. 

Laz stood long enough to wiggle out of her trousers and Reyes lifted his hips to slide his down, pushing them all the way off with his feet. She straddled him again and sank down onto his throbbing cock, pausing to rest her forehead against his. 

“We can do the move tomorrow,” she murmured. “Tonight, I’m yours.” 

“In that case…” grasping her firmly, Reyes flipped them and pinned her wrists over her head. All of the uncertainty of the last several days went into the thrusts of his hips, burning off anxiety to fuel this reunion. 

Her cries and her heels against his ass spurred him to drive deeper. She'd been in the car for hours and had the musky smell that was all her, arousing in and of itself. Her body clenched and his responded. Her teeth dug into his chest and he marked her neck in retaliation. _I'm yours, and you're mine_.

As Reyes pushed himself up and gazed down at her supine form, he tried to figure out why he'd been so worried. Of course, Laz would come back to him. Of course, she would stay. They were made for each other.

“I need a shower,” she groaned, making no move to dislodge him. 

Reyes pulled out and went to the kitchen for a towel. How to occupy himself for ten minutes...?

 _Shit_. “I need to finish a conference call,” he said as he tossed her the dishrag he'd found and kept going for his office. She laughed, delight brightening what he could see of her features over the back of the couch. “Sorry.”

“Don't be,” he called over his shoulder. “Just be naked and ready in fifteen minutes.” _Keema is doing to kill me_ , he scolded himself. As Reyes sat in his leather executive's chair and unlocked his phone to read Keema’s texted threats if he wasn't paying attention, he sighed. _Still worth it_.

Fifteen minutes later he'd brought the call to a conclusion, setting expectations and backing them up with both promises of reward and veiled threats. When he was confident of compliance, he ended the call and headed for the stairs. 

His mobile buzzed. “ _Madre de dios…_ ” he muttered, glancing at the caller ID. It was his second in command. Stabbing at the green accept icon, he took the call. 

“Keema, I'm busy,” he growled, short on patience as he took the stairs two at a time.

“Where the fuck were you in the middle of that call? You can't just -”

“ _Keema_. I. Am. Busy,” Reyes repeated, each word bitten off as he reached the top of the stairs to find Laz sprawled naked on the bed, legs open and one knee bent to give him a glorious view. Her cheeky grin widened when she saw him on the phone and she slid off the duvet to stalk toward him.

 _Between a rock and a hard place_ , he thought as Keema ignored him and Laz skimmed a hand up his bare chest. Neither woman was worth pissing off too badly for the same reason: they took neither shit nor prisoners.

“Hello, Keema,” Laz purred at the phone, resting her head under Reyes’ chin. He froze as Keema's harangue cut off.

“Ryder? Ah, you're back in town. That explains it. Sort this asshole out, will you, darling? Have fun, let's meet for drinks tomorrow. Muah.” 

Sighing in relief but unable to help a scowl, Reyes tossed his phone to the chair in the corner. “You know she hates it when I put play over work,” he grumped, not entirely displeased but not looking forward to the resumption of Keema’s dressing-down and not appreciative of being called “asshole”. 

Laz grinned and sank to her knees, dragging her nails down his body as she went in a gesture that both soothed and aroused. “I also know she loves you like a brother and if I can tell you've been stressed, so can she. She'll let it go…but if you're upset then I guess you'll have to punish me.”

Maybe he could be a little displeased. “Hmm...that sounds fair. Same safeties as always?” Stepping to the dresser, he withdrew three lengths of white silk cord and ran them through his fingers as he returned to her.

“Same as always,” Laz confirmed, saying her safeword as she tapped three times on his hip before taking his cock into her mouth.

Reyes let her do it her way for a minute before taking control. Cobalt threaded through his fingers as he grasped her hair and held her as close to his belly as she could manage. 

“Out of practice?” he asked when he released her, cocking an eyebrow as he tugged her head back to look at him.

“I can do better,” she assured him, eagerness shining in her eyes. He released her but kept the hand extended and open. Licking her lips with a shiver, Laz placed both wrists in it.

“What to do with you tonight,” he mused as he lashed them together. The thrill of her putting herself in his hands made goosebumps rise on his arms. She was stronger than she'd ever been, and yet more completely his at the same time. 

_It will have to be the sybian_ , he decided, tugging her upright. Reyes hadn't had the patience to deal with Keema earlier and he had none in him to be artful with Laz now. Using the device felt like cheating, but they'd both get pleasure out of it.

“You know what to do,” he prompted Laz when she stood looking at the sybian, trembling with the blend of desire and dread he knew she felt for the thing. 

He'd removed the dildo for cleaning and not replaced it, so she'd ride the low nub with only the vibrations for satisfaction. Which, for a woman who preferred penetration, wouldn’t be very great until he deigned to fuck the living daylights out of her.

“Reyes, please,” she begged as she knelt astride the saddle. Reyes ignored her, attaching the cord binding her hands to the hook overhead and stretching her lean body as tightly as he dared. The other two cords he used to bind her thighs to her ankles. Laz wouldn't be able to rise or sink.

Usually, he left her some leeway, but if it was all or nothing for him, it would be the same for her. Her eyes widened as she realised what he'd done and he stood with arms crossed, evaluating his work, giving her a chance to say her safeword.

“Say it, or I'll work you harder than I did at New Year's,” he warned her when she stilled and bit her lip. 

“Fuck you,” she spat instead as her brows lowered. 

Reyes grinned at her stubbornness; he loved breaking her. “That can be arranged,” he promised as he went to the drawer to find the remote. He didn’t give her the chance to find more words before he set the sybian on its highest intensity. 

Laz gritted her teeth, panted whimpers escaping as she strove not to break. Reyes sat back in his armchair at first, enjoying her resilience. As she continued to fight in rough jerks against the ropes holding her in place, his libido got the better of him and he spent his first orgasm training her back up to the ability to take all of him into her mouth. 

The second was spent self-indulgently driving Laz mad. Between nipple clamps, a crop, and the vibrations of the sybian, she was cursing him as much as she was begging him to fuck her. 

He didn’t, of course. That orgasm was poured down her throat after jacking himself off, taking advantage of her regained skill and amused by her defiant frustration. 

The third was when he gave in, cutting her free from the ceiling with a knife from the nightstand rather than taking the time to untie her. 

Hauling Laz to the bed, he set her on her knees and positioned himself behind her. She was begging, pleading for him to fuck her, and Reyes managed to rein himself in to tease her until her pleas grew frantic. Only then did he plunge into her with long, relentless strokes. 

She hid her face in the duvet to muffle the scream of her first orgasm and he pulled her head up by the hair. “Let’s try that again, shall we? No hiding, this time.” Reyes had paid dearly to have the whole flat soundproofed and he’d be damned if he didn’t take full advantage of the upgrade.

Laz had lost the capacity for thought if her shouted, repetitive cursing was any indication, but none of those words was the one to signal a stop. Her second orgasm shook her body harder than the first had and her scream made his ears ring as he released his own, cock buried deep in her core.

Again he cut her free rather than untying her. He could always buy more cords and the skim of the blade along her skin, the delicateness and precision it required not to scratch her, was satisfying. 

She quivered under his touch as he massaged her, slowly relaxing as she came down from her high and his fingers loosened her muscles. “You did very well,” he praised her. “What do you need now?”

“Water. Cuddles. Sleep,” Laz mumbled, voice rough.

Smiling to himself, Reyes fetched a glass of water from the bathroom, then went back to refill it when she finished it in a single draught. “Cuddles,” she demanded after finishing half of the second glass and handing it back to him. He was happy to oblige, setting the water on the nightstand and stretching out alongside her to gather her in his arms. _She’s home. She’s safe. And she’s mine_.

***

As much as he wanted to ask Laz what Meridian was, Reyes knew she needed sleep more. Food later, as well, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave their bed - _their_ bed, truly now, since she would be moving in today - to cook something.

Laz lay curled on her side, turned toward him. Her hair fell over her face in a blue curtain, a few strands stirring with every breath. Reyes brushed them aside with a fingertip, wanting to watch her sleep. 

The light touch made her groan, eyelids fluttering, and he winced. “Love?” she mumbled. 

“I'm here,” he replied. _And always will be_.

Blinking slowly, Laz yawned and stretched, snuggling closer to press her face against his chest and breathe deep. The gesture was touching, as always, but with both worry and desire sated Reyes’ curiosity took the lead. 

“ _Pajarillo…_ ” The agreeable noise addressed to his sternum encouraged him. “What was Meridian, in the end?” 

The suddenness with which Laz sat bolt upright startled Reyes enough that he reached for the knife taped the to bedframe before he could catch himself. Laz was not and had never been a morning person, but she was wide awake now, excitement and mischief conflicting with shyness in her eyes and the way she held her shoulders.

“Do you remember…” she trailed off, her body language telling him that if the morning light peeping through the curtains was falling on her face he’d see her cheeks suffused with a blush. “Umm. Remember at the Chiswick flat, when we were on the roof and you told me...about how you wanted to be someone?” 

Reyes’ throat closed and he glanced away. Nearly a year had passed since then, but that was still a vulnerable admission for him. He nodded once, acknowledging the memory but not adding to it. 

“How would you like to be the man whose company made a breakthrough on climate change?” 

Laz had never looked more uncertain than she had as she offered him this gift. All his life, Reyes had been driven by the desire to _be someone_ , someone more than an alcoholic’s get, or a hitman, or even a successful CEO. He remembered the ravages of climate change on Valparaíso, the rising seas on one side and the mudslides and floods pouring down the mountains on the other. 

A hunger greater than any Reyes had ever known rose in him. He could not only be someone; he could be someone _meaningful_ and _powerful_ , someone who harnessed nature itself. “What are you saying?” he asked, afraid to give the words breath. 

Laz squirmed, then straddled him and put her hands on his chest as though she sought to hold him still until she finished. “Meridian was a series of stopgaps for climate change combined with research to correct the issues associated with the decreasing plant nutrition resulting from the increased atmospheric carbon dioxide. It’s like...early stage terraforming tech combined with super-advanced GMO nutritional work. Reyes...it’s fucking brilliant. But they ran out of money cos it’s government, innit?”

She was sliding into colloquialisms, indicating the depth of her excitement, and Reyes’ mind raced with the opportunities. He could not only be someone, but he could be someone worth _admiring_. 

“If Collective led the way, made the breakthrough, and then open sourced everything…” Laz was saying as he pulled her down for a kiss. 

“You’re in charge,” he promised when they broke for air. “Open source, whatever, I don’t care. Make this happen.” Security, recognition, power, money...all wrapped a socially-palatable package. All his for the taking. All _theirs_.

Laz pulled back and looked at him, her blue-green gaze searching his face. “Do it,” he ordered.

“Okay,” she said, a lopsided grin tugging the left side of her face up. “And Reyes?”

He didn’t reply but for a lift of his eyebrows. 

“I’m yours. You’re mine. We’re the bosses.” She paused, pursed lips sliding to the right. “With Keema and Kian. Right? London is ours.”

“London is ours. And I have expansion plans,” he promised.

Laughing, Laz kissed him again, then reached down between them to stroke his cock. 

_This, I can do_ , Reyes thought, thrusting upward as Laz guided him into her. Successful businessman, he could do. Loving boyfriend, he could do. Anything and everything was possible with Laz by his side. 

They had both chosen all over nothing and the future potential was so much more than he had ever dreamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END. 
> 
> I am so utterly and overwhelmingly grateful to my readers. Your kudos, comments, Tumblr likes and reblogs, words of encouragement on Facebook, all of that is why I take the little movie in my head and post it here. So from me to you, THANK YOU for reading and for your support. 
> 
> Want to keep in touch? I'm on Tumblr as [makocartwheels](https://makocartwheels.tumblr.com/) for ME stuff and [seekerandstoryteller](https://seekerandstoryteller.tumblr.com/) for everything else (current obsession is Assassin's Creed: Origins - new [one-shot series](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13854312/chapters/31867272) and [longfic for Aya and Bayek](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13867911/chapters/31901973) in the works). You can also find me in the Reyder and MEFFW groups on Facebook. 
> 
> Again, my deepest, heartfelt thanks to you all. Happy reading and writing!


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